The Scuderi mansion lounge was thick with silence, tension curling in the air like smoke. Aria, Gianna, and Lilly stood obediently beside their powerful Vitiello husbands, backs straight, eyes downcast. Their father’s presence demanded nothing less.

The Don sat like a king on his leather armchair, broad shoulders draped in a silk robe, his sharp gaze slicing through the room. He was the Scuderi name personified—intimidating, cold, the kind of man who raised daughters to be pawns in a world of blood and power.

But then his gravelly voice rolled across the hall, shifting everything. "YN! Come down here, tesoro!"

Every head lifted slightly in surprise. The youngest. The one who never played by the rules.

When you finally padded down the stairs, hair messy from sleep, satin slip clinging like sin, the clock already striking past two in the afternoon, an awkward tension filled the room. Aria’s lips pressed into a thin line. Gianna’s eyes darted nervously at her husband. Lilly bit her cheek. None of them would ever have dared to show up like this in front of their father.

But you? You were different.

The Don’s stern features melted into something no one else in that room had ever seen—pride. Affection. A soft grin tugged at his mouth as he spread his arms wide.

"My little bratt finally wakes," he said warmly, as though the hour didn’t matter, as though the rules never applied.

The husbands exchanged glances, Luca’s brows furrowing, Mattheo muttering under his breath, and Romero shaking his head with faint amusement. Your sisters stiffened, silent, eyes filled with a mix of envy and resignation.

Because in that house, everyone knew one truth carved in stone: Scuderi Don was feared by the world, respected by kings, ruthless to his blood— Except with you. You weren’t his daughter. You were his empire