I walk into Indigo six years after I started making plans for this, and it still fills me with pride. The night I opened the doors for the first time and saw the line extending three blocks, I was shocked. The enthusiasm of this day has still not died down, which is more than I can say for the majority of the nightclubs in the theatre district. Maybe it’s the pessimistic side of me, but I keep waiting for the excitement to get stale and the patrons to move on, but so far, there’s no sign of the typical burnout. Thankfully, that’s great news for me as well as the family, since moving the operations of The Basement could be problematic on many levels.

I take the stairs two at a time. After seeing the cars out back, I know I have unexpected company. At this hour, I know they’re not here for business in the basement, so they’re mostly likely waiting in my office. It’s not like any visits from my father would ever be planned because Antonio Ruffinelli doesn’t need an appointment to see anyone. If he chooses to grace you with his presence, it wouldn’t be wise to question it. Visits from my father and his men could be good, or it could be really bad. If the terms for a visit from Antonio Ruffinelli aren’t cause for celebration, a man should probably hope it’s a good day to die because the odds of that outcome are high.

Waiting, or more likely guarding, the door of my office is Dino, one of my father’s many men. His only loyalty to me is through the man on the other side of the door, and unless my father and I aren’t seeing eye to eye, he has no problems with me. This time I’m about ten steps ahead of my father and have a good idea of the purpose of this visit. Dino steps aside as I approach the door while pointedly ignoring me and remaining stoic.

I open the door to the room and see the man who’s earned the right to be feared sitting on my oversized leather chair behind my desk. Always a man to be in the power position of every situation, whether it be the head of a dinner table or like now behind my desk. I’d never expect anything less. Sitting, he’s mangling a paperclip, a sure sign of his impatience, and ever so slowly looks up as I enter.

“Son,” he greets, unenthusiastically.

“Good to see you, father. To what do I owe this honor?” I ask, not giving any indications that I’m already aware of what he wants to discuss.

“I’ve come to deliver some information, but since my son is a smart man and well informed of current events affecting the family, I expect you’ve been informed of the details. Let’s save us some time and get to straight to the point. Tell me what you know and how this new situation is being handled,” he advises.

I’m not surprised he’s come to me for the information even though I’m sure more official sources have made him aware, but regardless, I’ll tell him. “I’ve been made aware that Elianna Nicchi is relocating to Boston. She purchased a brownstone in the south end. I don’t know the exact details of her arrival, but I expect it to be soon. The moving truck has come and gone. Her residence has been secured, and as soon as she arrives, she’ll have a shadow team on her every time she steps foot outside. They’ve been warned to keep their distance. I’ve personally checked the home security system and have set up alert notifications to be sent to my phone with any activity. I’m not sure what’s brought the mafia princess to our territory, but regardless, I plan to make sure she’s safe. As far as I know, she has no personal enemies, but the Nicchi family has enough to make her a target,” I report, focusing on the pertinent details of what I know he wants to hear while leaving out the mile-long list of everything else.

“We’ll need to get the word out that while the Nicchi princess resides in our territory, she’s covered, as well as off-limits. I’ll leave you to handle that, Lucas. I feel confident in your abilities to relay the message loud and clear.” I don’t tell him it was already my plan because I’ve known for weeks that Eli was moving to Boston, but until she’s here where I know she can be under my protection, I don’t want to bring any unnecessary attention to her.

“Sergio Vigo has called directly with the information and seeks a favor. Although I understand the need to keep watch over a loved one out of your reach, I’m unsure Vigo’s motives relate similarly. There have been whispers that the Nicchi family is dealing with some . . . what’s the word . . .” He pauses. “Let’s call them leadership issues. He’s asked that we update him with Elianna’s activities, dealings, contacts, and anything out of the ordinary. Although I suspect you and I don’t need to discuss what we will and will not tell Sergio Vigo. For Leo Nicchi, we will protect her as we would one of our own, but until we have a better idea of what’s really happening in that family, we’ll keep the peace and our distance. I have respect for the Nicchi family, but I do not trust Sergio Vigo. With nothing more than whispers of his activities and motives, it’s not enough to warrant Commission involvement until we can be sure it’s necessary.” He pauses again. I know he’s not done with our chat, but his body language tells me we’re changing directions. Unfortunately, if that’s the case, I’m unprepared and have no idea what I’m in for.

He sits forward in the chair, resting his elbows on the desk. Under his wrinkled brow, he pins his eyes to me. I’m sure he’s studying me for nervousness, but I’m not nervous. My dealings are all accounted for and paid up, so it’s something else.

“I know I don’t need to explain to you the consequences of going rogue. I am a man of many things to many associates, Lucas, but to you, I’m also a father. Son, if things need to be said or handled as it pertains to your brother’s death, come to me. Even as my son, if you make attempts to act on information you’ve gathered without the support of the family and backing of The Commission, I can’t interfere when they make an example of you. Do you understand what I’m telling you, Lucas?” he asks point blank.

Although I thought the subtle digging I’d been doing was off the radar, I now realize I was wrong. What doesn’t my father know? I can guarantee he’s known Elianna Nicchi was moving to Boston and everything I’ve worked out to prepare for her arrival if he’s somehow managed to work out that I’m hunting for the fucker who took out Matteo. I need answers.

“Father, my apologies for going behind your back. I would’ve come to you before I handled anything. You know as well as I do that Matteo didn’t commit suicide, but the lies will catch up to them, and I intend to make them pay. There’s not a creditor in the east what would’ve sought to act on any unpaid debt without a conversation with us and possibly Sergio Vigo, but no matter what, we would’ve fucking known. No one in their right mind would want an enemy in the Ruffinelli family,” I explain.

“Lucas, you’re held to a different standard, being groomed to someday fill my shoes. I won’t let you throw that away, son.” He looks at me with empathetic seriousness. I’m sure he realizes what he’s asking of me, but my answer is the same as always.

“While I appreciate having you in my life, Father, filling your shoes was never part of the plan for me. I love this family, and I can promise no one will ever be as loyal to you than I am, but I’m not committing myself to that kind of future. Not now. Probably not ever. You keep filling your own shoes for now. I’ll be at your side in my own.” I’m hopeful he understands my point of view and doesn’t see my lack of enthusiasm as a weakness or a shortage in loyalty.

With a nod, he stands and starts moving toward the door. He doesn’t speak until he’s at the threshold and the door is opened. He looks back over his shoulder, making sure he has my attention. “You know how to reach me. If you need to discuss the information you’ve found, day or night, call me. We’ll meet. If anyone has ever questioned my dedication to helping my son accomplish the things that matter most in his life, I’d be honored for the chance to prove myself.” Our conversation is no longer private. Anyone within proximity has heard what he said, but he doesn’t seem to care. This sentimental father – son moment is a first for us, and I can honestly admit the man has truly humbled me.

“And Lucas, about the first thing we discussed. I understand you’re taking the lead on this, but if you need resources and support, I’ll have you covered. Just say the word.”

I don’t even think I can handle what’s being thrown at me right now. What is going on with my father?

“Yes, sir,” I mumble. “I appreciate the support. I’ll be in touch soon with updates.” With that, he turns and leaves.

I walk to my desk and plop down into the recently vacated chair with a sigh of . . . what the fuck do I even call this? Shock? Relief? Confusion? Dammit. It’s all those and more. My head is literally spinning with all that I have up in the air at the moment.

My brother. I know without a shadow of a doubt what didn’t happen, but I don’t know what did or why. My father. Yeah. He’s hell-bent on me taking his place when the time comes, and I’m not exactly sure why. It seems like so much more than prepping for his retirement. Then there’s Indigo and the private business I run in the basement that we creatively call The Basement.

Bringing Elianna into the mix makes the rest seem like a walk in the park. Not that I don’t want her here, but having her in Boston causes a whole set of new complications. How do I convince myself she’s off-limits? Ten minutes of holding her in my arms and I’m doubtful a recovery exists for what that’s done to my head. It didn’t take me long to understand my little brother’s attachment issues. He’s always firmly defended his relationship with Eli. He never expected anything more than a friendship, but I struggle to understand how he wouldn’t have wanted more.

I’ve always thought she was gorgeous, but feeling her break down in my arms showed me there’s so much more, and for that reason alone, I’ll never be able to trust myself with her. At the same time, Eli isn’t mine. She never has been. She can’t ever be.

I have a job to do where she’s concerned, and I don’t expect that to be easy. I’m not entirely convinced she’s safe, but I have no data to back that up except for Matteo. He was supposed to be safe, and he wasn’t. I fucked up with Matteo. That’s on me, and I regret it every single day, but I can’t let my guard down with Elianna. The only way to keep her from being a diversion is to stay the fuck away from her, but it’s impossible to really protect her if I have to solely rely on others to do my work.

Also, it would be helpful if she were cooperative, which means I probably need to let her know we’re going to be working with each other. She needs to know we have eyes on her, so she doesn’t get spooked if she notices her tails. Most importantly of all, if she does have any issues, concerns, or whatever else, I want to be the first phone call. Who else would she call anyway? It’s not like she has any better options than me. I’m her only connection to Boston as far as I can tell, which opens a whole separate set of questions.

What the hell is really bringing Elianna to Boston, and what is she running from in New York? Is this just a coincidence she’s moving to the city pretty much under our thumb? Because I’m struggling not to convince myself that I haven’t affected her the same way she has me. Not knowing the vital details is causing unnecessary pressure. It’s hard to fight the unknowns, but I can’t exactly just call her up and start asking for answers since I haven’t seen or heard from her since Matteo’s service.

Irony is a bitch. On a day when everything felt so fucking wrong, consoling her while she was wrapped in my arms couldn’t have felt more right. How can that ever be justified?

My phone pings with a message alert, so I pick it up to look at the screen.

LUIS: She’s here.

Well, looks like my day will not be going as I planned.