Kane’s POV
Amsterdam's luxury hotel suite stretched before us—all marble, gold fixtures, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking canal waters that glittered in the afternoon sun.
"To the fall of the mighty Ryan Blackwood," I declared, clinking my glass against Tiffany's.
"And to his precious little wife," Tiffany added with a vicious glint in her eye. "Tumbling down those stairs like the pathetic nobody she truly is."
We drank deeply, the expensive champagne sliding down my throat with all the sweetness of revenge. Ryan... oh, the thought of my almighty nephew breaking down was absolutely delicious.
"You're certain your family's connections here are solid?" I asked Tiffany. It wasn't the first time I'd sought this reassurance. "Ryan has resources. If he suspects—"
"Rel
