Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Lorenzo
Iknock on Pietro's office door, keeping my expression neutral. Business as usual.
"Come in."
Pietro sits behind his desk with Nora perched on his lap, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest while he reviews something on his phone.
"Marina's coming to visit Sophia," I say, like I'm reporting a shipment arrival. "Should be here within the hour."
Pietro sets his phone down, his dark eyes studying me. "Nora, give us a minute."
She smiles, pressing a kiss to his jaw before sliding off his lap. "I'll be in Vittoria's room if you need me."
The door clicks shut behind her. Pietro leans back in his chair, fingers steepled.
"Speak."
"I just told you. Marina's visiting—"
"Cut the shit, Lorenzo. What's going on with you and Sophia?"
I keep my face blank. "Nothing's going on. We're maintaining the arrangement as discussed."
"Really?" Pietro's eyebrow arches. "Because this morning you two left for the hospital looking like actual lovers. Holding hands, her fussing over you, you letting her. Then got back like strangers."
"The hospital was for appearances. People were watching."
"There were no photographers at seven in the morning."
I shift my weight, hating how he sees through everything. "Alberto's starting treatment this week. They'll know by Friday if the transplant takes."
"I don't give a fuck about Alberto right now." Pietro stands, moving around his desk. "I care about my brother acting like an idiot."
"I'm handling the situation."
"By doing what? She looked ready to cry when you got back."
"She's young. Emotional. She'll get over it."
Pietro's fist slams onto his desk. "You think I'm blind? You think I don't see how you look at her?"
"How I look at her is irrelevant."
"Jesus Christ." He runs a hand through his hair. "You're doing it again. The same shit you pulled after Luna."
"This is nothing like Luna."
"You're right. It's not. Because Sophia actually gives a damn about you, and you're too much of a coward to admit you feel the same."
The word 'coward' makes my jaw clench. "I'm protecting her."
"From what? Yourself?" Pietro laughs, but there's no humor in it. "You're not Dad, Lorenzo. You're not going to destroy everything you touch."
"You don't know that."
"I know you've been different since she got here. More focused. Less reckless with the business. You actually give a shit about something besides your restaurants."
"She's twenty years old."
"So? Nora's twenty-three. You think three years makes that much difference?"
"It's not the same."
"Why?"
I don't answer. Can't answer.
Pietro moves closer. "You know what I saw this morning? My brother letting someone take care of him for once. Do you know how long it's been since I've seen that? Since anyone's seen that?"
"It was an act."
"Bullshit. You don't act that well. None of us do." He pauses. "She makes you better, Lorenzo. And you're throwing it away because you're scared."
"I'm not scared."
"Then what are you?"
Terrified. The word sits heavy in my chest. Terrified of wanting her. Terrified of losing her. Terrified of becoming the monster that destroys her innocence.
"What the fuck do you care?" The words rip out of me, raw and angry. "You wanted her dead. All of you did."
Pietro laughs and the sound makes me want to put my fist through the wall. "That's what you all wanted from Nora too, if you can't remember."
He's right.
"When Nora's identity came out, everyone was the same way because of her family." Pietro moves back to his desk, pouring two glasses of whiskey. "Yes, me and Nico and every fucking member here didn't want a Torrino in the goddamn house."
He slides a glass across to me. I don't touch it.
"But I don't give a fuck if that's making my brother live a little."
"I'm alive."
"No, you're not." His voice drops, deadly serious now. "If it wasn't for Nora, I would've ended up dead when I took the Don title, and you know it."
The truth of it sits between us. Pietro was spiraling after Riccardo's death, taking unnecessary risks, making enemies we didn't need. Until Nora. Until she gave him something to fight for besides revenge.
"You've been dead for years," he continues, "covering your corpse by offering everyone in here a safety fucking zone. Playing the diplomat. The fixer. The one who keeps us all from killing each other."
"That's my job."
"Your job is to be my brother. To be alive. To want something for yourself."
"I want the family safe."
"Bullshit. You want to disappear into your restaurants and your deals and pretend you don't feel anything.
" He takes a long drink. "If things were different, I would've wanted another woman for you.
Someone without complications. Someone who didn't come with a target on her back.
But this is how things are. And Sophia, may be everything we should hate, but she managed to make something move inside that corpse you call a body. "
I finally grab the whiskey, downing it in one burn. "You want to know what I'm good at, Pietro?"
He waits.
"I'm an expert at ruining things. Not just breaking them. Not just destroying them. Ruining them. Taking something pure and twisting it until it's unrecognizable. Luna wasn't broken when she came to me—she became broken because of what we were together. What I turned her into."
Pietro's eyes narrow. "Luna was playing you from day one."
"Was she? Or did I create the perfect environment for betrayal?
Did I push her toward it with my paranoia, my need for control, my inability to trust?
" I lean forward. "You think Sophia's different?
You think I won't do the same thing to her?
Watch her innocence die piece by piece until she's just another casualty of this life? "
"That's not—"
"I already started." The admission tastes like ash.
"She came here terrified, desperate, but still herself.
Still hopeful. Now she's learning to use knives.
Planning strategies. Accepting violence as normal.
How long before she's calculating deaths over breakfast?
How long before that light in her eyes goes out? "
Pietro studies me for a long moment. "You really believe that."
"I know it. It's what I do. It's what we all do. We take good things and corrupt them."
"Then explain Nora."
"What about her?"
"She came from the same world. Irish mob royalty. She knew violence, knew betrayal, knew loss. But look at her now. She's not corrupted. She's not broken. She's exactly who she chooses to be."
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because you're not me." The words come out flat, final. "You don't have my particular talent for taking something beautiful and making it bleed."
Pietro opens his mouth to respond when a woman's voice cuts through the air outside, loud enough to penetrate the office windows.
"Put me down, you fucking asshole! I said PUT ME DOWN!"
We both turn toward the window. Pietro gets there first, and I see his shoulders shake with what might be laughter.
"What the—"
I join him at the window and freeze. Dante's crossing the front lawn with Marina thrown over his shoulder like a bag of flour. She's pounding her fists against his back, legs kicking wildly, her hair flying everywhere.
"I can walk! This is kidnapping! Assault! I'll sue your entire family!"
Dante keeps walking, completely unbothered by her attacks. His face maintains that same deadly calm he wears during interrogations.
"Fuck." I head for the door.
Sophia
Marina's screaming cuts through the compound like a knife through silk. I bolt from my bed, yanking open my door just as Lorenzo appears in the hallway. We reach the front entrance at the same moment, our shoulders brushing as I grab the handle.
The door swings open to reveal Dante with Marina slung over his shoulder like she weighs nothing. Her fists pound against his back while she kicks her legs, face red with fury.
"Put me DOWN!"
Dante sets her on her feet with surprising gentleness, but Marina's hand flies through the air before he fully releases her. The slap echoes across the front steps, sharp enough to make me wince.
Dante's hand shoots out, capturing her wrist before she can pull back. "Next time you take out claws, I'll ruin you."
"Try it, asshole." Marina yanks her wrist free, rubbing it as she glares up at him. He's got at least a foot on her, but she doesn't back down. "I'll have you arrested for kidnapping."
"What the hell is going on?" I push past Lorenzo, putting myself between Marina and Dante.
Marina's eyes blaze as she points at Dante. "Ask this freak who knocked on my door demanding I get in his car. When I said no, he grabbed me like some kind of caveman."
"You threw your fucking phone at my face." Dante shows his cheek where a red mark is already forming. "Since you weren't coming willingly, I brought you anyway."
"Because that's totally normal behavior!" Marina's voice rises another octave. "Breaking into someone's building and manhandling them!"
"Marina, calm down." I grab her shoulders, trying to steady her. She's shaking with rage, her whole body vibrating with it.
"Calm down? This psycho just carried me across Chicago like a sack of potatoes!"
I turn to Lorenzo, searching his face for an explanation. He doesn't even look apologetic.
"It wasn't safe for her to come alone." His tone suggests this should be obvious.
I roll my eyes so hard it hurts. "So you sent Dante to kidnap her?"
"I sent him to escort her. The kidnapping was his improvisation."
"Escort?" Marina laughs, but there's no humor in it. "He broke into my building! My neighbor called the cops!"
"I handled it," Dante says flatly.
"Oh, you handled it. Great. That makes everything better." Marina's sarcasm could strip paint.
I grab Marina's hand, pulling her toward me and away from Dante. "Come on. Let's get you inside."
"Anytime, princess." Dante's voice carries just enough mockery to make Marina spin around.
"Call me princess again and I'll show you exactly where you can shove your—"
"Marina!" I tug her harder, dragging her through the doorway before she can finish that threat. "Not helping."
I drag Marina through the foyer. Behind us, Dante's voice carries through the open door.
"I'm taking the rest of the day off."
"Like hell you are," Lorenzo responds.
"Fucking asshole," Marina mutters under her breath, loud enough for them to hear.
I push her deeper into the house before she can start another fight. "Keep walking."
"Did you see what he did? He literally picked me up like I was nothing!"
"I saw." I guide her toward the stairs, nodding at Giulia who watches from the kitchen doorway with raised eyebrows. "Up here."
Marina's anger propels her up the steps two at a time. "I should press charges. Kidnapping is a federal crime."
"You won't."
"Why not?"
"Because you're here now and you're safe." I open my bedroom door, ushering her inside. "That's what matters."
Marina stops in the middle of my room, taking in the space. Her shoulders slowly drop from where they'd been bunched around her ears.
I close the door and lean against it. "Are you okay?"
She turns to face me, and suddenly all the fight drains out of her. "Soph, I'm so sorry."
"For what?"
"For showing up like this. For making a scene." She drops onto the edge of my bed, running her hands through her disheveled hair. "I just... when that guy showed up at my door demanding I come with him, I lost it."
"Anyone would have." I sit beside her, bumping her shoulder with mine. "Dante can be... intense."
"Intense?" Marina laughs, but it's shaky now. "He's just an asshole." She shakes her head, then takes a deep breath. "But I'm here now. And I'm going to calm down because that's not why I came. Whatever's going on, whatever you need, I'm here to stand by your side."