Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Lorenzo
Ifind Vittoria in her tech cave.
"Anything?"
She doesn't look up from her keyboard. "If there was, you'd already know."
"Check again."
"That's not how this works, Lorenzo." Her fingers never stop moving. "The phone's been wiped professionally. Military-grade encryption on the deleted files. Whoever Luna's working with knows what they're doing."
I drop into the chair beside her, rubbing my temples. The lack of sleep burns behind my eyes, but that's not what's killing me.
It's the sound of Sophia crying into her pillow all night, thinking I couldn't hear.
"How long until you can break it?"
"Days. Maybe weeks." Vittoria finally looks at me, and something in my face makes her stop typing. "How are you?"
"I'm pissed. Twenty years of loyalty from Giovanni, and he sells us out for what? Money he'll never spend?"
"That's not what I meant." She swivels her chair to face me fully. "How are you handling the Luna situation?"
"There's nothing to handle. She's a threat. We'll deal with her like any other threat."
"Lorenzo."
"What?"
"She was your first love."
"She was a mistake."
"And now she's back." Vittoria's voice goes soft, the way it does when she's about to say something I don't want to hear. "How's Sophia taking it?"
"She's... managing."
"Managing." Vittoria repeats the word like it tastes bad. "Did you talk to her about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about. Luna's a problem. We'll handle it."
"Jesus, Lorenzo." She shakes her head. "For someone so smart, you're incredibly stupid sometimes."
"Excuse me?"
"Sophia just found out the woman you loved is alive. And your response is to what? Pretend she's fine?"
"I'm not pretending anything. I'm focused on keeping her safe."
"From Luna? Or from her own feelings?"
I stand up, needing to move. "I don't have time for this."
"Make time." Vittoria's voice hardens.
"She said she was fine."
"Of course she did. What else is she going to say? 'Hey Lorenzo, I'm terrified you still love your not-dead ex'?"
"That's ridiculous. I don't—"
"I know that. You know that. But does Sophia know that?"
I sink back into the chair. All night, I listened to her trying to muffle her sobs. Every instinct screamed at me to hold her, to tell her everything would be okay. But I couldn't move. Couldn't find the words.
What if I made it worse?
"I don't know what to do," I admit. "I've never been good at this."
"At what? Caring about someone?"
"At showing it." The confession burns coming out. "At saying the right things. Making someone feel... secure."
"You don't have to be perfect at it." Vittoria's voice gentles. "You just have to try."
"What if I say the wrong thing?"
"Then you say the wrong thing. But at least you're talking." She turns back to her screens. "Ask her how she feels, Lorenzo. Actually ask her. And then listen to what she says."
Why is this so fucking hard?
Vittoria's right. Sophia has shown me in a hundred ways that she can handle me, my temper, my silences, the blood on my hands. She's seen me at my worst and still looks at me like I'm worth loving.
I leave Vittoria and head straight for our bedroom. My hand's on the doorknob when it turns from the inside.
The door opens and Sophia's there, dressed to leave. Dark circles shadow her eyes. She's been crying again.
"Where are you going?"
"Just... I was going to find Marina."
I lift her off her feet before she can protest, carrying her back into the room. She makes a small sound of surprise as I kick the door shut behind us. I set her on the bed gently, then sit beside her.
"Lorenzo, what—"
I kiss her. Soft.
When I pull back, her eyes are wet.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
"I'm fine."
"Don't." I cup her face in my hands. "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not—"
"Why were you crying last night?"
Her breath catches. She tries to look away but I hold her steady, thumbs stroking her cheekbones.
"Sophia. Talk to me."
"It's stupid."
"Nothing about you is stupid."
She closes her eyes. A tear escapes down her cheek. "Luna."
The name hangs between us like a blade.
"What about her?"
"She's alive." Her voice cracks. "She's alive and she's been watching us and—" She pulls away from my hands. "I know what you're going to say. That it doesn't matter. That she's just a threat to eliminate. But Lorenzo, you loved her. Really loved her. And now she's back and I'm just—"
"Stop."
"I'm just some girl you got stuck protecting and—"
"Stop." I grab her shoulders. "Look at me."
She does, tears streaming freely now.
"I would rather be dead than love Luna Torrino. You hear me? Dead. She could walk through that door right now, and the only thing I'd feel is rage. Not love. Not longing. Just fury at what she did to my family."
"But—"
"I don't want her, Sophia. Christ, the thought of her makes my skin crawl. You think I'm distracted because of her? You think I'm pulling away because some part of me still wants her?"
She nods, barely.
I damn myself for taking so long to handle this. For always waiting until the damage is done before dealing with what matters.
"I'm not like this because of Luna." I release her shoulders, running my hands through my hair. "I'm like this because Giovanni mentioned Riccardo."
"Riccardo?"
"Giovanni said Luna mentioned him." The pieces I've been trying not to see click together. "I don't know what Riccardo had to do with the Luna situation. He never said anything, but now..."
Sophia's hand finds mine. "We'll figure it out."
"That's what's eating at me. Not some lingering feeling for her."
She squeezes my fingers. "Why didn't you just tell me?"
"Because I'm an idiot who doesn't know how to talk about things that matter."
A small laugh escapes her, wet and broken. "You're doing okay right now."
I pull her against me, her head fitting perfectly under my chin. "I'm trying."
Sophia
I spread fabric samples across the coffee table while Marina holds up two different shades of white. "Ivory or pearl?"
"Pearl," Vittoria says without looking up from her laptop. "Ivory will wash you out."
Nora checks her phone, then glances at the mountain of wedding catalogs surrounding us. "Three days. We're insane for trying to pull this off in three days."
"We've done crazier things," Vittoria mutters, typing furiously. "I once hacked the Pentagon in two."
Marina drops the fabric. "You what?"
"Kidding." Vittoria's lips twitch. "It was the NSA."
I can't tell if she's joking. With Vittoria, it could go either way.
"The florist can deliver tomorrow," Nora announces, scrolling through her messages. "But they need final numbers by tonight. How many guests?"
"Immediate family only for the ceremony," I say, remembering Pietro's instructions. "The reception is where we make the statement."
"So that's..." Vittoria counts on her fingers. "Pietro, Nora, me, Nico, Dante—"
"Bruno?" Nora asks quietly.
The room goes still. Vittoria's fingers freeze over her keyboard.
"I don't know," she admits. "He's been locked in his room for days. Won't see anyone except the physical therapist."
"Has anyone tried talking to him?" I ask.
"We communicate through texts and phone calls now." Bitterness creeps into Vittoria's voice. "He won't even open the door for me anymore. Just slides food requests like he's in prison."
Nora sets down her phone. "How bad is it?"
"Bad." Vittoria closes her laptop. "The wheelchair is killing him. Not physically. Mentally. Bruno was always the strongest. The one who could handle anything with his fists. And now..."
"Now he can't," I finish softly.
"He's angry. All the time. At everyone." Vittoria's voice cracks slightly. "Especially at himself."
I think about the cruel things Bruno said to Lorenzo about me. The venom in his voice when he suggested Lorenzo was controlling me.
"This won't end well," Vittoria continues. "I know my brother. He's not the type to accept limitations. He'll either find a way to walk again or—"
"Or what?" Marina asks.
"Or he'll destroy everything around him trying."
I've only known Bruno as the bitter man in the wheelchair, but the others remember him differently. Strong. Capable. The perfect heir after Riccardo.
My phone buzzes. Lorenzo: Everything okay?
I type back: Wedding planning. Your sister is teaching Marina about hacking government agencies.
Three dots appear immediately: Tell her to stop corrupting civilians.
"Lorenzo says stop corrupting Marina," I announce.
"Too late," Marina grins. "I'm thoroughly corrupted. Kidnapped by the mob, living in a compound, helping plan a mafia wedding. My mother would have a heart attack."
"Your mother thinks you're at a spa retreat," I remind her.
"Right. The very exclusive, very secretive spa retreat."
Nora snorts. "With armed guards and bulletproof windows."
"The safest spa in Chicago," Vittoria adds dryly.
We all laugh, and I love this.
"Okay," Nora pulls us back to reality. "Flowers sorted. What about the dress?"
"There's no time for alterations," Vittoria points out. "Whatever you choose has to fit perfectly off the rack."
"I know a place," Nora says. "Discrete. High-end. They'll come here with options."
"Here?" I ask.
"Pietro's not letting you leave the compound until after the wedding." She gives me an apologetic look. "Too risky with Daniil still out there."
"Are you working right now?" Vittoria asks Marina, closing her laptop completely. "I mean, with everything that's happened..."
Marina shakes her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Not actually. I have this need to find the perfect spot or not at all. Can't just work anywhere, you know? The vibe has to be right."
"What kind of job are you looking for?" Vittoria leans forward, genuinely interested.
Before Marina can answer, Dante strides in, his presence immediately filling the room.
"Something in hospitality. She's got experience dealing with difficult customers."
"Fuck you," Marina snaps, her cheeks flushing red.
Dante's grin widens. "Such language. And here I thought you were a lady."
"Have you seen Nico?" he asks, shifting his attention to the room at large, though his eyes keep drifting back to Marina.
"How would we know?" Marina crosses her arms. "Aren't you somewhere kidnapping innocent women? Seems to be your specialty."
"Only the mouthy ones. The ones who slap first and ask questions later. They're my favorite."
Marina's face goes from red to crimson. "I slapped you because you threw me over your shoulder like a caveman."
"You refused to come willingly. I improvised." He shrugs, completely unrepentant. "Besides, you didn't seem to mind the view on the way here."
"The view of what? Your ass? Please."
"You were looking?"
"I was upside down! Where else was I supposed to look?"
Nora hides her smile behind her hand while Vittoria watches the exchange like it's her favorite TV show.
"If you see Nico," Dante says, backing toward the door, "tell him Pietro needs him. I can't find him."
"We'll be sure to pass along the message," I say, trying to defuse the tension.
But Dante's not done. He pauses at the doorway, looking directly at Marina. "For what it's worth, I know someone looking for help at their gallery. Downtown. Good pay, flexible hours." He tilts his head. "But you'd have to be nice to me for five whole minutes to get the introduction."
Marina opens her mouth, probably to tell him exactly where he can shove his job offer, but he's already gone, his laughter echoing down the hallway.
"I hate him," Marina announces to the room, flopping back against the couch cushions. "I absolutely, completely, totally hate him."
"Sure you do," Vittoria say.
"I do!"