She turned around in her seat to look at me, her eyes dark and calculating.

“You look pale, Maya,” she said, smoothing her trench coat.

“Adrian will kill you for this,” I said, spitting the words.

She laughed, a short, dry sound that had no humor in it.

“Adrian will do exactly what he is told.”

She pulled a black satellite phone from her pocket.

“Salvatore is already waiting for him at the lakefront estate,” she said.

My stomach dropped at the mention of the patriarch.

Salvatore Vale did not bargain.

He only dictated.

“Adrian left that life,” I said. “He wanted nothing to do with your family.”

“He has no choice now,” Camille said, turning the phone over in her gloved hands.

She tapped the screen, dialing a long number.

“Salvatore has set the terms.”

She watched me, enjoying the fear she knew I was trying to hide.

“And what are they?” I asked.

“Adrian returns to the Vale syndicate,” she said simply. “He takes his place as the rightful heir.”

She paused, letting the words hang in the cold air of the vehicle.