Did he repulse her that much?
His gaze drifted back to Luca.
Kneeling like this, about to be torn apart by their father—
Luciano Genovese still looked like the man everyone chose.
Julian's eyes flicked back to Don. He watched the older man.
Tried to understand what he had spent years pretending not to notice.
That quiet, unwavering approval.
It didn't make sense.
How could punishment—how could pain—earn pride?
Unless…
Unless it wasn't the suffering that mattered.
It was how Luca wore it.
Luca was owning this and it wasn't even fun for Julian to watch.
Julian shifted in his chair, irritation gnawing through the fog of medication. "What are we waiting for?" he asked impatiently.
Don simply stood, hands still clasped behind his back, gaze fixed on Luca's exposed back. "A guest," Don answered calmly. "Don't worry. You'll get your pound of flesh."
