Tony's pov

"Don't worry, brother, I won't let the word get out you're a caring human being and ruin your stellar reputation as an asshole playboy." I smirked at my baby brother, enjoying watching him squirm. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Did you hit your head while you were in hiding, brother? Because you must have knocked a screw or two loose. You're talking nonsense."

"So you are an asshole then?" I questioned sarcastically.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," EJ pouted, like a little boy.

"I know what you meant, fratellino (little brother). All lawyers are assholes, it's got nothing to do with your sparkling personality. We'll blame it all on your profession. Va bene (Okay)?"

"No, fratellone (older brother)," he said, sneering the term as if it was a curse word. "Stop putting words in my mouth and assuming you know what I'm trying to say," he ordered, in a quite annoyed tone.

Chuckling, I sarcastically replied, "Ovviamente, EJ, non accadrà di nuovo (Of course, EJ, it won't happen again). Puoi mai perdonarmi (Can you ever forgive me)?"

I have to admit, I find it quite amusing I'm the only one who can get him so worked up and flustered. He's normally so confident, conceited, and aloof. It's a nice change of pace indeed. I know he finds it infuriating that I can push his buttons to this extent. But isn't that what older brothers are for?

"Not funny, brother," EJ whined, like a bambino (baby boy), making me laugh even more,

Turning my attention back to the mess my daughter had created, I directed Lorenzo to save me the largest fragment of my beloved vase. I'll keep it as a memento of sorts. A reminder of what's truly important in life. Although that vase is irreplaceable, it holds no worth compared to my precious daughter. That jagged piece of porcelain will represent the fragility of man. Just as the shattered vase can't be pieced back together, a severed relationship with my daughter can never be made whole again.

I need to get my temper in check before I deal with her. As much as I want to throttle her right now for being so careless, I have to remind myself that vase is just an object, a possession with extreme monetary value, but no intrinsic worth. My daughter, on the other hand, is my entire world, my soul, my life.

Family is everything, afterall. Father certainly taught me that, drumming it into my head and beating it into my backside from the time I was in diapers up until the day he died. His death in itself, an everlasting example of the ultimate sacrifice he made for the sake of his children and grandchild. I fear I'll never have that level of courage or strength. I pray to God every night that I'll live up to his expectations as patriarch of this family and that I won't let him or my siblings and daughter down.

"No matter, Elliot James. If you'll excuse me, I have a daughter to discipline now," I said, snapping myself out of my self-reflective state and getting back to the task at hand.

"Please remember, brother, she's only a child and it was an accident," my little brother cautioned, in a rare moment of sentiment directed at someone other than himself.

Wrinkling my forehead, I questioned him out of curiosity more than anything else.

"Just what exactly are you afraid I'm going to do to her, fratello (brother)?"

Swallowing hard, he responded, "When I looked into your eyes as you ordered Claire to get great-grandfather's strap and wait for you in the study..." he hesitated, "I saw Father looking back at me."

My baby brother looked down out of fear or perhaps shame for what he just said.

"I know you meant that as a cautionary insult, but I'll take it as a compliment, fratellino (baby brother). Father was harsh at times with his discipline but I never doubted his love for us and you shouldn't either." I looked at EJ expectantly.

He nodded his head in acknowledgement, knowing that's what I wanted.

"You have nothing to worry about, in regards to me disciplining Claire. Sono chiaro, fratellino (Am I clear, little brother)?" I asked, patting his cheek rather firmly with the palm of my hand.

"Si signore (Yes sir)," he responded respectfully, even though he was clearly embarrassed.

I have to give him credit for that. As egotistical as he is, he still knows his place and occasionally, even accepts it gracefully. Now that I'm the patriarch of this family, there are times I demand a higher level of respect from my siblings. EJ wisely recognized this as one of those times. When I started to walk away, he called out to me.

"Do you remember the letter you wrote to me when you went into hiding? The letter that specified your instructions for assuming guardianship of your daughter?"

Scoffing slightly, I shook my head.

"Of course I remember, EJ. Why do you ask?" I turned around, giving him my full attention.

"Think on that when you walk through that door," he said, pointing toward our father's study. "That's why I ask, fratellone (older brother)."

Watching my little brother leave the room, I wondered if he had a valid point. Yes, I'm angry that my daughter broke one of my rules and acted so foolishly and carelessly, breaking a valuable antique, but he can't honestly believe I would ever hurt her. Can he? I mean, I do want to throttle her for what she did but I can demonstrate restraint while punishing her. Can't I? I'm not our father, afterall.

Seeing the look of sheer terror on my daughter's face as I entered my father's study, I had my answer. Her eyes nervously darted between me and my great-grandfather's strap several times.

"Go put this back," I said, picking up the strap. "You have your uncle to thank for that," I clarified, in response to her bewildered look.

She hesitantly hung the strap back up on the wall as if she was afraid this was some sort of trick and I would soon change my mind and order her to bring it back.

"Sit down, Claire," I commanded when she returned, pointing to the chair across from me as I sat behind Father's desk.

She flinched at the tone of my voice, hurriedly complying and taking a seat.

She's honestly afraid of me. Not just the punishment she's about to receive, but me. I'm okay with her fearing my discipline, but I'm not okay with her fearing me. She's literally shaking right now. I swallowed the lump in my throat when she cautiously looked up at me. Standing and turning away from her, I fought back the tears desperate to fall. I want her respect and devotion, not this.

"Claire, are you scared of me right now?" I asked, my back still to her.

"Y_yes s_sir," I heard her timid little voice eek out, her fear piercing my soul like a red hot fire iron pulled directly from the flames.

Yes sir. I sighed heavily, flashing back to my childhood living under Father's rigid regime. The obedient little soldier following orders.

"Come here, Claire," I beckoned her to me, as I turned to face her. When she hesitated, I said, "Now," quite firmly.

As soon as she was within reach, I pulled her into my arms, crushing her against my chest. I held her tightly as she burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to break your vase, I'm sorry," she cried, as I swayed her gently.

"Lo so, tesoro, è stato un incidente (I know, honey, it was an accident). Please don't cry."

Pulling back slightly, she wiped her eyes.

"But it was your favorite vase," she exclaimed, sniffling sadly.

"And you're my favorite daughter," I said in a serious tone, looking into her eyes as I held her shoulders squarely so she couldn't turn away from me.

Giggling slightly, she smiled weakly as she said, "I'm your only daughter, Daddy," while pushing me back slightly.

"Doesn't mean it's not true." I tilted her chin up so she could see I was being sincere.

"So you're not mad at me?" she questioned hopefully.

"No, I'm not mad at you, bambina (baby girl), but you're still going to be punished for breaking one of my rules." I couldn't help chuckling seeing the crestfallen look on her face. "You didn't seriously think I was going to let you off Scot-free now, did you?"

"Yeah, I was kinda hopin' you would, Daddy," she replied, ever so sweetly and innocently.

"You don't think you deserve to be punished for disobeying me?" I asked rather facetiously.

Sighing heavily, she hung her head low.

"I guess I do, Daddy, but I promise never to play ball in the house again. So maybe it's not really necessary?" she questioned, shyly biting her bottom lip.

Throwing the Daddy card out there again for like the umpteenth time in the past five minutes to try and lessen her punishment. That's my girl alright. I shook my head and smiled at her blatant, yet adorable, attempts to manipulate me. Sometimes I swear she's so much like her mother, it's frightening.

"Ti darò una scelta, bambina (I'll give you a choice, baby girl)," I said, taking a seat, pulling her down to sit on my lap. "You can write I will not play sports in the house again two hundred times and you'll be grounded for two weeks or..." I tapped her thigh as she groaned, "OR I'll give you a spanking and you'll be grounded for one week. The choice is yours, Francesca, choose wisely." Standing us both up, I patted her bottom and said, "I'll be back in fifteen minutes to hear your decision."