Page 50 of Silent Snowfall

“Yeah, we can play later,” Mat chirped. “We want to bake.”

I gathered them both in my arms and hugged them tight.

Chapter 15 – Lucian

“And just where the hell have you been?” Drew’s shrill voice cut through the kitchen like an icicle straight into the ear. It lodged in my brain, making me wince with a shock of cold.

“Business,” I snapped.

My baby sister marched right up to me, hand on her slim hip, and hissed as she looked me over. “Guests have started arriving. It had better be a life or death excuse, Lucianus.”

If we were using our given names….

“Drusilla,” I said through clenched teeth. “Knock it off.”

I might be the don, but this willowy spitfire thought she was the boss. Since our parents began traveling the world, living the nomadic life of the retired, she pretended to rule the roost.

Who was I kidding, Drew always believed she was in charge. She came into the world and wrapped her chubby paw right around Papà’s finger and then proceeded to make everyone else in this twisted town bow to her every whim.

That didn’t mean I was going to let her speak to me this way in front of the kitchen staff. The cook was the only one who smirked. The maids and butler, mercifully, were too busy running around, refilling trays of drinks and finger food to pause and listen to our squabble.

“Change, and get your ass downstairs,” my sister demanded.

I straightened and gave her a tight smile. “We’ll be expecting five more this evening.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “The place settings are already arranged.”

“Adjust.” I slid my hands into my pockets. “These are important guests. They’ll sit to my right, across from you.”

“And where are Giuseppe and Samantha going to sit?”

She thought she had me.

“Move them to the middle, somewhere near Signora Finnocchiara.” I took a casual step toward the passageway that led to the back staircase. “Oh, and Drusilla?”

She bristled at the name. “Yes?”

“It’s very important that these five additions are treated with the upmost respect.” If I had to endure a formal dinner, at least there would be a show. I wasn’t going to tell my sister why they’d come. That was a juicy tidbit she could figure out on her own.

Her curiosity won out. “What’s so important about them?”

“If tonight goes well, we’ll have a valuable alliance,” I deflected, opening the swinging door.

“And if it doesn’t?” There was a taunt in her voice.

“War.”

The door fell closed just as my little sis put two and two together.

I hurried down the passageway and climbed the stairs rapidly. Earlier this fall, a prominent faction of Bratva in Trenton sent assassins to take me out. We eliminated them, of course, and sometime in October, I met with their boss. The pakhan expressed interest in negotiating an alliance, which I was open to pursuing. He had my blessing to marry into the family, but I made it clear that he would have to brave my sister’s temper all on his own.

Drew had been furious when I reported the situation to our Triumvirate. I might be boss, and Giuseppe the underboss, but Drew was the raging voice acting as consigliere. The townsfolk honored us with the ancient Roman title, not knowing how much chaos charged between us. Especially when I told her the pakhan was interested in marrying her.

The clothes fell to the floor as I hurried to change in the privacy of my room. I spritzed Clive Christian No. 1 across my chest before sliding the black cashmere sweater over my head. Tucking the balaclava into my pocket, I grabbed a sports coat that I would ditch later. Since I gifted half my guys with the same sweater, I would blend in with the crew of Made Men the moment I ditched the dinner jacket.

And my little rosebud would be none the wiser.

I rushed downstairs, refusing to be absent when she arrived with her grandmother. Rosetta needed to interact with this version of me. As much as I dreaded her hating the Killer King, the man who ruled an organized crime unit specializing in assassinations, she needed to be familiar with the man behind the mask, so that someday I could remove it.