The second Gian pulled into the driveway of his home he knew something was wrong. The man his father normally left on the grounds as a guard was gone. That, in and of itself, wasn’t unheard of. He could have been called away for any number of reasons. But the hairs prickled on the back of his neck. And his suspicion was confirmed when they approached the house.

His front door was wide open.

“Wait in the car,” he told Domenica. She looked as though she wanted to argue, but he was out of the car before she could.

He gestured for two of the four new members of their family—whatever that meant—to stay with his mate. The other two followed him inside. Fury rolled through Gian, leaving a lust for blood in its wake. His home was destroyed, not irrevocably so, but what a damn mess. He inhaled a deep breath, hoping his new senses could uncover something his eyes couldn’t. But before he could mentally examine the array of scents that touched him, he heard a gasp.

Domenica took another step closer to him, the front door still slightly ajar, forgotten behind her. She’d ignored his order. Fine for a mate, but he would have to discuss the role of Capo with her later, in private.

Without a word, she marched past him, farther into the house.

Gian followed her. Trying to stop her would be a fool’s errand. But he wouldn’t leave her side, just in case anyone stupidly remained inside his home that sought to harm her.

“Who the fuck would—” Domenica halted when she stepped into the main living room area. Across the large wall opposite the overpowering windows on the other side, someone had used pre-paint to scroll the word bitch.

He growled, just as Domenica muttered, “Biagio.”

Of course, it was Biagio. That fucker couldn’t take a hint.

The cooler side of Gian, the side that remained ice, understood that what Biagio did should hardly be unexpected. Biagio had lost face to Gian. As a Don—especially, as a new, wannabe Don—Biagio could hardly afford to lose face in front of his men. Particularly when several of them had already left to follow Domenica in her search for her father.

It didn’t surprise Gian that those men had followed her. Or that she had placed so high as Capo during the Shadow Mob’s tests. With a touch more viciousness, or the ability to shift, she probably would have ranked Don.

Even now, just after discovering a man she hated and reviled had defaced her new home, Domenica was on the phone. Calling her men. Creating plans to deal with their enemy.

Mine.

His mate. His woman. And soon, his wife.

The pride that washed over him almost erased his fury, it was so strong.

“This cannot go unanswered,” she told him as she hung up the cell phone, eyes flashing with fire.

He nodded. Of course, it couldn’t go unanswered. They had defiled his home. His mate’s home. For this, they would burn.

It took surprisingly little effort to track down one of Biagio’s loyal goons. Domenica knew their habits, knew her father’s men. It took only hours for them to secure one of the men, who Domenica recalled frequented the local strip club, most times alone. It was so simple, they could’ve taken down the man with only Domenica’s men, or a couple of Don Spadaro’s men who would have helped. It was overkill to send in the four who had accompanied them from the Shadow Mob’s trials.

“I’m half-tempted to send you to Biagio in a breadbox,” Domenica snarled at the man they had tied to a chair in Gian’s basement.

The man didn’t flinch. Balls of steel, Gian would give him that. Seeing his lack of fear egged Domenica on; she bared her teeth at the man and took a step closer.

Gian touched her shoulder. “While I agree with the sentiment, I think our message might be heard more clearly if we send him back alive.”

Domenica turned on him, her anger a palpable presence in the room. “Sending him back in pieces will get the message across loud and clear. Don’t touch what is ours.”

He respected her passion, her fury. But he was the Don. The decision was his, no matter how much he wanted to please his mate.

“One more chance. One more chance before we start killing off Biagio’s men one by one. Avoiding an all-out war is still best for all.” He turned to the man in the chair, then something of Gian’s dragon nature must have shown because the man’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “I am a Don in the Shadow Mob now. You can carry this message to your master. He fucks with me, he fucks with Domenica, he fucks with anything in our sightline, and he is a dead man. All the men who follow him are dead men. This is his final warning.”

Taking care not to hurt the man, Gian cut the ropes that bound him and waved to one of his men to escort the man out. “Make sure he gets to Biagio with the message,” he muttered to the man. The man nodded.

To her credit, Domenica waited until all his men had vacated the basement room before turning on him. “What the fuck was that?”

“If Biagio’s a smart man—and despite our disgust and dislike of him, I think we can agree that he is smart—he’ll see this as a show of strength.”

“How? We had that man in our hands. We could’ve—” She shook her head and let out a humorless laugh. “Killing him would’ve been easy for us.” But the questioning was gone from her tone.

Pleased that she understood, he said, “Exactly. Killing that man would have been too easy. Showing that his goons are too weak for us to even care about, let alone hurt, that’s the show of strength we need here.”

“I get it,” she said, finally. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Don’t worry, my bloodthirsty little mate.” He pulled her into his arms. “We’ll get our chance soon. Of that, I have no doubt.”