Chapter 26 - Carmela
Three days. That's how long I've been pacing these marble floors while Van suffers. That's how long my brothers have been treating me like I might shatter if they speak too loud. That's how long I've been swallowing this burning in my throat.
Not anymore.
When I push through the double doors of the family war room, every head turns. My heels announce each step—not the tentative click of their baby sister, but something new. Something that makes Dom half-rise from his chair before I even speak.
"He is mine," I announce, surprised by how steady my voice sounds. "And I'm bringing him home. The rescue operation begins now."
Dom starts to stand properly, that big-brother protection mode kicking in, but my raised hand stops him. The gesture feels natural, like I've been waiting my whole life to make it.
"Carmela, you need to—" Rafe begins.
"I need to get my man back." I move to the head of the table where tactical maps sprawl across polished oak. "He's been captured and held for—" My voice catches slightly. "For three days while I've been sitting here letting you handle everything. That ends now."
Leo's jaw drops. Actually drops, like in the movies. "How do you even—"
"Know about any of this?" The laugh that escapes me is harsher than I intended. "Because I'm a Rosetti. Because I've been watching and learning a lot more than any of you realized."
The war room goes quiet except for the hum of electronics. Matt's silver coin—his nervous tell since we were kids—stops mid-flip.
"This is non-negotiable." I spread my hands flat on the table, leaning forward the way I've seen Papa do a thousand times. "He belongs to me, and I will not leave him in enemy hands for one more hour."
God, the girl who used to believe love conquered all would barely recognize me. But that girl didn't understand that sometimes love means becoming someone harder. Someone who can actually save the people she loves.
"You can't just—" Matt starts, fingers twitching toward his coin.
"Can't what?" The words come out softer than I intended—dangerous soft, the kind that makes Matt actually flinch. "Can't take command of an operation to save the man I love? Watch me."
Dom crosses his arms. "Carmela, you don't understand how these things work. You need to let us handle—"
"Handle what, exactly?" My hands stay steady even though my heart is trying to escape through my ribs.
Van taught me that—control is about what they see, not what you feel.
"Because from where I'm standing, you've been handling this for three days while he's being systematically broken by people who want to destroy our family through him. "
Rafe steps forward, ice-blue eyes hard. "You don't have the experience to run a tactical operation. This isn't some charity gala you're organizing."
The condescension stings, but it also lights something up inside me. Time to surprise them.
"I've been learning about this family, about how we function," I continue softly. "Maybe not the specifics of every operation, but enough to know what we're capable of when someone threatens what's ours."
I turn to face them one by one, channeling every family dinner, every overheard conversation, every moment I tried not to understand what was really being discussed.
"Rafe, you're the enforcer. When talking fails, when intimidation is the only language left." His eyebrows climb. "Milo, you're our eyes everywhere. Surveillance, intelligence, making sure we know everything before anyone else knows anything."
Milo straightens, those eyes sharpening.
"Matt, you're the one who opens doors with charm instead of explosives," I say, and Matt stops flipping his coin. "You get information through smiles and drinks and making people want to help us."
I let the tension build as understanding dawns on their faces.
"Leo, you're chaos incarnate. You keep enemies off-balance because even we don't always know what you'll do next."
Leo's mouth opens, closes, opens again.
"Oh Leo, you're adorable when you're speechless. Happens so rarely I should take a picture. And Dom," I add, meeting our future don's intense green eyes, "you coordinate all of us. You see the big picture, assign roles, make the hard calls when lives are at stake."
Dom's eyes narrow, seeing something new in my face—not the detailed tactical knowledge I don't have, but the strategic understanding that's been growing since I chose to stay in this world.
The silence stretches. Then Dom's expression shifts—not to the detailed understanding I don't have yet, but to something like recognition.
"I've been learning," I continue, letting exhaustion creep into my voice for just a moment. "Maybe not every detail, but enough. Enough to know what we're capable of when family is threatened."
I pull out my phone and dial our Chicago cousins, putting it on speaker. The video call connects immediately.
"Carmela?" Marco's surprise is obvious. "We weren't expecting—"
"I need a full tactical assessment." The authority in my voice surprises even me—but then again, I've been listening to Rosettis command rooms my whole life. "Van has been taken. I'm coordinating the rescue."
Through the screen, Marco straightens, his whole demeanor shifting from casual to lethal in a heartbeat. His fingers fly across a tablet.
"Location confirmed. Abandoned medical facility, nineteen miles northwest. Three exits, minimal civilian exposure."
"Perfect." I watch my brothers' faces as I continue. "Marco, tell me about survivor protocols."
His smile is all teeth. "What survivors? After what they've done to family, we might have some regrets about leaving anyone breathing."
"They've had three days with him." My voice stays bright, almost conversational, which somehow makes it worse. "I want them to understand what that means. Budget is unlimited—whatever equipment, whatever bribes, whatever we need. Millions if necessary."
"Done. Chicago resources are yours."
I end the call and turn back to my brothers, who are looking at me like I've grown a second head. A competent second head.
The silence stretches until Dom nods slowly. "You're not our baby sister anymore."
"No." I let myself smile—not the barbed thing I've been practicing, but something real despite everything. "I'm someone who can help. Finally."
Rafe's already pulling out his phone. "Ground teams and weapons. Fast and hard."
"Medical support ready," Milo adds, laptop already open. "Three extraction routes to different facilities."
Matt pockets his coin. "I'll handle the official complications. Everyone who might interfere gets paid to be somewhere else."
Leo cracks his knuckles, that wild energy sparking. "Just point me at whoever needs hurting."
Dom walks around the table to face me directly. For the first time ever, he extends his hand like I'm an equal instead of someone to protect.
"Welcome to the real family business, Carmela."
I shake his hand, feeling the weight of what this means. Money, weapons, cousins—everything flowing through my word now instead of around me.
"We bring him home," I say.
"The teams will handle extraction," Dom starts, slipping back into protective mode. "You'll coordinate from here, safe in the—"
"No." The word comes out firm but not harsh. "I'm going. He needs to see my face when we get him out."
All five brothers start talking at once, their protests overlapping into noise, but I hold up my hand again.
"He's going to be broken." My voice wavers slightly—the first real crack in my control. "Maybe barely conscious. The first thing he needs to see is that I came for him. That I didn't just send people—I came myself."
"Carmela, that's not safe," Rafe argues.
"Then make it safe." I head for the door, knowing they'll follow because that's what family does. "Jet's ready in thirty minutes. Anyone not ready stays behind."
The sound of chairs scraping and weapons being checked tells me everything. I pause at the door, looking back at the war room where I've just claimed my place.
Part of me wants to cry. Part of me wants to run back to being protected and safe and naive. But the biggest part—the part that loves a broken soldier who trusts me with his demons—knows exactly what needs to happen.
We're bringing my man home.