Marcello led Kyle down the mansion's wide hallways, past paintings worth more than most people's lives and marble columns that carried the weight of old money and older secrets. The other family heads followed at a careful distance, their faces tight with anger they couldn't quite hide.
"I need you to understand something," Kyle said low, words just for Marcello. "Whatever you're planning, whatever moves you're making, you need to stop."
Marcello glanced sideways, eyes hard to read. "You don't know what you're asking."
"Maybe not. But I know what I'm seeing." Kyle stopped walking and turned to face him straight. "You're not a bad man, Marcello. I can tell. You're kind. You listen. You're just stuck with the hand life dealt you."
