Page 116 of His Stolen Bride

I look at her. I don’t want her hearing this from anyone else.

“Rinaldi,” I tell her. “A cousin line. Not direct. A man who thinks he’s clever because he wears good cuffs and keeps his hands clean.”

Alina’s eyes go hard. “He was in my house once.”

“I know,” I say.

Her gaze locks on mine, no fear in it, only calculation. “What happens now?”

I turn back to the accountant. “You’re going to rewrite your statement in your own handwriting,” I say. “You’re going to sign it. You’re going to record it. Then you’re going to call your contact at the bank and set a meeting with me.”

His face drains. “They won’t meet.”

“They will,” I say. “Because you’re going to tell them you’ve already been arrested and you’re talking.”

He stares, then nods quickly.

Good.

When he’s dragged out, Enzo shuts the door behind him. Sofia stays by it anyway.

Alina doesn’t move.

Neither do I.

The room holds a quiet that used to mean danger for her.

Now it means we’re deciding.

“You’re not burning Vienna down,” Alina says.

“I’m not,” I reply.

She studies me, waiting for the trick.

“There’s no trick,” I say. “If I torch the city, somebody else profits. I don’t build with fire. I build with rules.”

“And your rules,” she says carefully, “include me standing next to you in rooms like this.”

“Yes.”

“Because you want them to respect me,” she says.

“Because I want them to understand,” I correct. “If they touch you, they die.”

Sofia lets out a low whistle. “Romantic.”

Alina shoots her a look. “Go be useful.”

Sofia grins. “Already am.” She leaves, satisfied.

Enzo remains, but he keeps his eyes down. He’s smart enough to understand this isn’t a conversation he needs to be in.

Alina steps closer to the desk. “You’re rewriting alliances.”

“Yes.”

“Who’s fighting it?” she asks.