Dimitri was escorted through the estate by a guard.
The private study was at the rear of the main house, isolated and secure. Heavy wooden doors. Soundproofed walls. The kind of room where real conversations happened, the kind that couldn't be overheard.
Antonio was alone when Dimitri entered.
He was standing at the window, looking out at the Roman countryside beyond the estate boundaries. He didn't turn immediately when Dimitri entered. He took his time.
When Antonio finally turned, his expression was absolutely controlled.
"Sit," Antonio said. It wasn't a request.
Dimitri considered not sitting, but he understood what this moment was, a father reasserting dominance over a son who'd grown too powerful, too independent, too willing to defy him.
Dimitri sat down and looked at his father.
Antonio settled into the chair across from him, and the two men looked at each other across the distance of the desk.
