Chapter 160: The Don’s Trap

?•???°???°???•-

"I agree." Lorenzo said.

That caught both of us off guard.

I figured Lorenzo would counter every disagreement with another carefully placed threat, but instead, he leaned back slightly, keeping his gaze locked on Dante.

"I didn’t say it made you responsible," he pressed on. "I said you lied about being there. I said you hid a meeting with someone who could connected to an attack on our family. Those are two different things, and I want to know why."

Dante’s mouth twisted in frustration. "You think I don’t know what your plan is? You lured me here just to waste my time and you’re using this investigation to justify keeping the title! Is this some kind of trap?!"

"Would you rather explain the meeting or keep talking about the succession?"

Dante fell silent.

Lorenzo took that silence without treating it as a confession, which only made things worse.

He wasn’t focused on extracting a convenient answer from Dante; he was intent on seeking the truth and was willing to wait as long as it took to get it.

"The investigation will continue whether you cooperate or not," he stated. "Anyone who knowingly assisted the attackers, provided access, or concealed their plans will be held accountable. Family ties...or blood even...won’t protect them."

Dante’s fingers curled against the table’s edge. "You would destroy your own family to maintain your authority."

"Why do you care about an investigation you insist has nothing to do with you?"

"Because you’ve always mistaken control for justice."

"I know the difference, which is why I won’t let grief excuse putting innocent people at risk."

The word ’grief’ landed between them like a slap.

Dante shoved his chair back and rose halfway from his seat, pressing both hands against the table as his composure began to slip.

"Not everyone has the luxury of forgetting what was taken from them!"

Lorenzo’s expression hardened. "I haven’t forgotten a thing."

"No, you remember everything except the wrongs you’ve committed."

For a moment, the argument drifted away from the topic of succession entirely.

Dante wasn’t just sounding like an older brother seeking recognition anymore; he sounded like a man who had nursed his wounds for so long that he was struggling to separate his grief from his rage.

"And what do you believe I’ve done?" Lorenzo asked.

Dante’s laugh was laced with bitterness. "You have no right to decide who deserves punishment! Maybe those involved in the Paris conspiracy had their reasons for what they did!"

I felt Lorenzo’s focus sharpen, and the room around us seemed to grow colder.

The silence that followed Dante’s words was so profound that I could almost hear the air stilling around us.

Lorenzo didn’t accuse him or raise his voice; he just sat there, watching his brother with an expression that was so controlled it made me wish he’d just yell instead.

"If you know who did this and are keeping it from me, your silence carries weight," Lorenzo said.

"Are you really threatening your own brother?!" Dante shot back.

"I’m giving you the chance to come clean before I decide what your silence implies and act on it," Lorenzo replied.

Dante straightened up slowly, his anger flaring in his eyes. "You think that fucking crown gives you the right to control everyone? Just because you wear it doesn’t mean we all have to bow when you speak!"

"Did you come here to negotiate, or did you already know what you wanted?" Lorenzo asked.

"I came because you said you might give it up," Dante said, almost defiantly.

"What if I told you the investigation would continue? Would you still have taken that offer?" Lorenzo pressed.

Dante didn’t answer, and I noticed how Lorenzo’s silence seemed to cost him something this time.

"I could’ve understood your anger about our father’s choice," he said, softer now. "I could have even understood if you wanted the title for yourself. You’re my brother, and I’ve never pretended our father’s decision didn’t hurt you. But I can’t wrap my head around why you’d hide details about an attack that put me, my husband, and this family at risk."

Lorenzo’s gaze stayed on Dante, but I could see the hurt hiding beneath the cold exterior...just a small crack in his facade that only someone who’d spent nights beside him could catch.

"Was the title worth all that to you?" he asked.

Dante looked at him as if Lorenzo had just insulted him.

"You still think everything is about you, Lorenzo." he replied.

"So, what’s this really about?" Lorenzo asked, challenging him.

For a moment, it looked like Dante might finally say something. His expression flickered, and for a split second, something painful flashed in his eyes before he slipped back into the familiar mask of resentment.

"You’ve never known what it’s like to lose someone you love," Dante said, his voice heavy.

Lorenzo froze.

I knew enough about his past to realize the words hit deep, somewhere he didn’t let many touch.

I remembered the scars beneath his clothes, the boy who had watched his mother die, and the man who carried that memory into every room he entered, even when no one else could see the weight he bore.

"Explain," Lorenzo said quietly.

"You already know what you did," Dante replied.

"Dante."

"Don’t act like you’ve forgotten!"

Lorenzo pushed his chair back and stood, his movements measured even though the tension in the air was palpable.

"Enough. I’ve asked you about your presence in Paris, your meeting, and your choice to hide what you know about the attack. You’ve dodged every question instead of giving me a straight answer. If you can’t give me a reason to trust you, I can’t let this go unresolved."

Dante rose as well. "You never trusted me from the start, so why should this be any different!"

"I did trust you, Dante. I trusted you because you are my big brother."

For the first time that night, Lorenzo’s mask slipped, showing just a hint of the pain in his eyes.

It was fleeting, but I caught it, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit of anger towards Dante for putting that look there.

"And that," Lorenzo said softly, "makes it hard to forgive."

Dante’s hand twitched towards his coat.

But Lorenzo was quicker, drawing his gun with a practiced ease that I barely processed before Dante’s bodyguards had their weapons aimed at their own Don.

The Castelli guards reacted instantly, guns appearing like they’d been waiting for the perfect moment to intervene, while Timothy stood between me and the chaos, his gun raised.

"Donna, move away from the table," he ordered.

"Oh, fuck! Okay, okay...wow, that really escalated." I jumped right up.