Tony Lombardi released his arm from Fiona Valrose's waist, gesturing for her to step aside.

He beckoned Jenna Roland over, patting the seat beside him.

Jenna's heart clenched. Her fingertips trembled slightly. She knew Tony's reputation too well—sitting there could mean trouble.

"Little sister," Tony took a sip of whiskey, his gaze unexpectedly softening. "In all my years in this business, no one's ever spoken to me as sincerely as you did. You're the first."

Jenna froze. She'd only uttered a few polite platitudes, yet they'd somehow shifted his entire demeanor.

"How could that be?" she asked cautiously. "Someone like you must have plenty of people trying to win your favor."

Tony gave a self-deprecating laugh. "My men are waiting for me to die. The bosses only want to use me. Even my wife's heart belongs to someone else." His expression turned serious. "I was wrong earlier. From now on, you're my real sister. Deal?"

Jenna was speechless.

Fiona nudged her. "What are you standing there for? Call him 'brother' already."

"Brother..." Jenna murmured softly, already calculating the benefits this title might bring.

Tony threw his head back with booming laughter, making the crystal chandelier sway. "Good! Tony Lombardi finally has a sister!"

He stood abruptly, scanning the room. "Listen up! From now on, she's me. Anyone who lays a finger on her—" He drew a finger across his throat.

A chill ran down Jenna's spine.

The roomful of underlings bowed their heads in unison.

Resuming his seat, Tony personally poured Jenna a drink. "Anything you need, just ask your brother."

"Thank you, brother." She accepted the glass and downed it in one go.

They exchanged contact information. After several more rounds, Jenna finally managed to excuse herself.

Stepping out of the private room, she exhaled deeply. She'd entered trembling with fear—now she'd gained a "brother."

In the hallway, she encountered Patrick Klein, who eyed her nervously. "He didn't give you trouble?"

"Actually, it went well." Jenna blinked. "He just adopted me as his sister."

Patrick's eyes widened. "What?"

"Oh," Jenna added casually, "he also ordered two bottles of Romanée-Conti."

Patrick's walkie-talkie clattered to the floor. Twenty-six thousand dollar wines, just like that? What kind of magic had this girl worked on Tony?