CHAPTER 4

The study in the Hierro estate always smelled the same. Old leather, expensive scotch, and decaying power.

Sebastian stood near the massive mahogany desk, looking out the large window that overlooked the manicured gardens. He wasn't wearing a suit jacket, just his dark shirt, unbuttoned at the collar. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke against the glass, completely ignoring the man sitting in the heavy leather chair behind him.

"You cannot keep running your operation from the forest," Rafael snapped, his gravelly voice rising. "You are the head of the Hierro family now. The Spanish Boss. This house is yours. The families, the legacy, all of it. You belong in that chair, Sebastian. In this house. Ruling the way your blood demands. Not playing cartel king in the dirt."

Sebastian didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He just tapped the ash from his cigarette into a crystal tray.

Rafael had been giving this same speech for three years. He couldn't stand that his son had taken the mafia crown but refused to wear it the way Rafael wanted. Sebastian had built his own empire. His own men, his own territory, run with a ruthless efficiency the traditional Spanish Mafia had never seen.

"I don't play," Sebastian replied smoothly, his tone flat and unbothered. "I rule. There is a difference, old man."

"You are disrespecting the legacy," Rafael growled, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his cane. "The Hierro name built Spain's underworld. And you treat it like a coat you can leave on a hook. Move back into this house. Sit with the families. Manage them. If you won't, maybe I should."

Sebastian finally turned around.

He leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing his ankles, looking down at his father with completely dead, cold amber eyes. There was no anger in his expression. Just pure, predatory calm.

"You can try," Sebastian murmured lazily. "But we both know you don't have the teeth for it anymore."

He took one more slow drag and exhaled.

"And just so we understand each other, father. I am tired of being pushed. Keep this speech up, and I will dismantle everything you built. The families. The routes. The name carved above the door. I'll burn your legacy to the ground and stand in the smoke, and I won't feel a thing."

Rafael's face flushed a deep, ugly red. His breathing grew heavy, but he didn't rise from his chair. He knew better than to physically challenge the monster he had created. Instead, he leaned back, his dark eyes narrowing into a toxic, manipulative glare.

"If you are so unwilling to do your duty," Rafael said softly, his voice dropping into a dangerous register, "maybe I should ask Diego."

Outside the heavy doors, Viola pressed a trembling hand over her mouth.

She had been passing by the study with a stack of fresh towels when she heard the deep voices. The heavy oak doors were cracked open just an inch. She knew that if anyone caught her lingering there, she would be punished, but curiosity had glued her feet to the marble floor.

All the talk about cartel business and territories had gone completely over her head. But then Rafael said it.

Maybe I should ask Diego.

Viola froze completely. Diego. The forbidden name. When her mother had first married Rafael and brought a twelve-year-old Viola to this estate, she had been given exactly one terrifying warning. Never speak that name, and never, ever go near the locked top floor. It was a forbidden area for everyone in the house, and no one dared to ask what dark secret was kept up there.

Through the crack in the door, Viola saw exactly what the name did to her stepbrother.

His fist clenched against the desk so hard his knuckles turned white. The cool, unbothered mask he always wore vanished, replaced by a dark, lethal energy that made the hair on Viola's arms stand up.

"Careful, father," Sebastian warned softly. The words were laced with a freezing coldness that made her blood run cold.

Rafael smiled, a cold, victorious curve of his lips. "I am not threatening anything. I am just saying... you should think about your responsibilities."

For a long moment, Sebastian said nothing.

Then, to Viola's disbelief, the monster bent.

"I will come back to this house," Sebastian said, his voice flat, emptied of everything. "I will sit in the chair, and I will handle the families the way you want. Consider it done."

Rafael's smile widened. "See? That wasn't so hard."

"And father." Sebastian's voice dropped softer, and somehow that was the most frightening it had ever sounded. "If his name crosses your lips again, I will forget that you are my father."

Viola's grip tightened on the towels. Sebastian Hierro, who had just threatened to burn his own legacy to ash, had surrendered everything Rafael asked for. Because of one name.

Whatever Diego was, it was the only thing in this house that could make him kneel.

Sebastian pushed off the desk, turned his back on his father, and started walking straight toward the exit.

Panic seized Viola. She scrambled backward, pressing herself flat against the hallway wall, clutching the towels tightly to her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, holding her breath, praying the shadows would hide her.

The heavy doors pulled open.

Sebastian stepped out into the quiet corridor. He didn't turn his head. He didn't look in her direction. He just started walking past her.

Viola's lungs burned. As he took a few steps away, she let out a tiny, silent sigh of relief. He hadn't seen her.

But then, his footsteps stopped.

He didn't turn around.

"Eavesdropping is a bad habit, dulzura," his rough voice cut through the silence. "Are you being a bad girl?"

Viola stopped breathing.

How did he know? He hadn't even looked at her. A violent jolt of panic seized her chest.

"Forget what you heard tonight," he continued, still facing away, his voice low and almost lazy. "A good girl like you doesn't want people dying over a name."

Her blood turned to ice.

People. Dying. Over a name.

She didn't reply. She didn't wait to see if he would turn around. She just bolted, her soft footsteps sprinting down the corridor as fast as her trembling legs could carry her.

Sebastian stood in the hallway, listening to the frantic sound of her running away. A slow, dark smirk played on his lips.

As soon as the hallway was empty, the smirk died. His eyes went completely cold, though something deep and dangerous burned in the amber depths.

He walked down the corridor to his private wing, shutting the heavy door of his bedroom behind him. He unbuttoned his dark shirt, shrugging it off his broad shoulders and tossing it onto a chair.

As he turned, the dim light caught the dark ink staining his skin. A sharp, dangerous serpent tattoo wrapped tightly around his ribs. And etched across his broad back was a cold Spanish quote: La lealtad se paga con sangre. (Loyalty is paid in blood.)

Bare-chested, he walked toward the massive window overlooking the dark estate. He pulled out his encrypted phone and dialed a number.

"Is everything in place?" Sebastian asked, his voice low and smooth.

A brief confirmation came from the other end.

A dark smile touched his lips. "Good. It's time."

He hung up, tossing the phone onto the bed.

His mind should have been entirely on the plan. He had no use for anyone in this house. To him, everyone under this roof was just a piece on a board waiting to be played.

But his thoughts drifted.

"Viola," he murmured softly to the empty room.

The name suited her. It matched those rare, violet eyes. She walked around the estate on eggshells, constantly looking over her shoulder like she expected someone to jump out of the shadows.

She fascinated him.

She reminded him of a little rabbit he had caught in the woods when he was a child. A frightened, wounded animal that trembled wildly the second it realized it was trapped.

That was exactly what Viola was. A terrified little rabbit, completely at his mercy.

And tonight, the little rabbit had heard the name. Diego. Spoken out loud in front of a girl who flinched at her own shadow.

He should have been furious. He should have dragged her into that study and made her understand exactly what silence cost in his world.

Instead, something sick and warm unfurled in his chest.

She was carrying it now. His most guarded secret. Walking around his house with it inside her trembling little chest, not even knowing what it was.

That shouldn't have excited him.

It did.

Just thinking about the way she froze under his gaze sparked something very dark in his chest.

This house might not bore him after all.