Chapter 11
T he cemetery stretches before us, a sea of black against the gray morning sky. Rain threatens but hasn't fallen yet, as if even the heavens are holding their breath for this moment.
I stand between my brothers as two caskets are lowered into the ground. Fabio and Anthony. Men who died protecting us. Men with families, with dreams, with futures that were stolen because they worked for the Ferettis.
Maria clutches her children's hands, her face a mask of grief. Anthony's mother stands by his fiancee's side, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. I can't look away from them. Their pain is a physical thing, hanging in the air around us all.
Daniel stands three paces behind me, his presence constant as a shadow. Since the attack, he hasn't left my side except when absolutely necessary. Even now, at a funeral surrounded by our security, his eyes scan continuously, his body tense and ready.
The priest's words blur together as I stare at those caskets. Two more deaths. Two more families were destroyed because of our world, our choices, our enemies.
And there will be more.
The realization settles like ice in my stomach. This war with the Russians is just beginning. More men will die. More wives will become widows, more children will grow up without fathers. All because of a blood feud that has nothing to do with them.
I think of the four hundred families who depend on the casino for their livelihoods. I think of every person who works for us, who trusts us to protect them. I think of the bodies being lowered into the ground before me.
The price is too high.
When the service ends, people begin to disperse. I watch Damiano approach Maria, taking her hands in his, speaking words I can't hear but understand. A promise of protection, of justice. The weight of responsibility sits heavy on his shoulders.
I move toward them, feeling Daniel shift behind me, always watching, always guarding. When Damiano finishes speaking with Maria, I touch his arm.
"I need to talk to you," I say quietly.
He nods, and we step away from the others. Daniel maintains his distance, giving us privacy while keeping me in his sight.
"I'll do it," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll agree to the engagement with Bruno."
Damiano's eyes sharpen. "Lu?—"
"No, listen to me." I glance back at the fresh graves. "This is the cost of war, Damiano. And it will get worse. If marrying Bruno Sartori can prevent more funerals, more widows, more fatherless children... then I'll do it."
My brother's face hardens. "This isn't your responsibility to bear."
"Isn't it? We're Ferettis. We protect our own. That's what you always say." I look around at the grieving families. "These people are ours to protect. The casino employees are ours to protect. If my engagement can secure peace with the Sartoris and save the casino, then it's my duty."
Damiano studies my face, his expression unreadable. Finally, he says, "We'll talk about this later, at home. This isn't the place."
I nod, knowing he's right. A funeral is no place to negotiate my future.
I turn to leave, but a prickling sensation at the back of my neck makes me look up. Daniel's eyes meet mine across the cemetery, his gaze intense and unreadable. My stomach drops. He heard me. He must have heard my offer to marry Bruno.
Heat rushes to my face as I quickly look away. Why do I care if he heard? Why does his opinion matter? He's my bodyguard, nothing more. The strange flutter in my chest when our eyes met is irrelevant, inappropriate.
I straighten my shoulders and walk toward Maria, needing distance from Daniel's watchful eyes. The widow stands alone now, staring at the fresh mound of dirt that holds her husband.
"Maria, is there anything that I can do for you now?" I ask like there is the easiest thing in the world right now.
She nods, clutching her wedding ring. "What I need is my husband back."
The raw pain in her voice cuts through me. I've never been in love, never experienced that kind of connection, but I've seen it. I've watched Damiano with Zoe, the way his entire being softens around her. I've seen Enzo with Sienna, how he moves through the world as if she's his center of gravity.
To lose that, to have half your soul ripped away, must be a pain beyond imagining.
"The first night was the worst," Maria whispers, almost to herself. "Waking up and reaching for him, only to find empty space."
I take her hand, saying nothing because there's nothing to say. What comfort could my words possibly offer?
Over Maria's shoulder, I feel Daniel's eyes on me again. Always watching, always guarding. I don't look back at him. I can't.
I've made my choice. I'll do what needs to be done to protect our people, to end this war before it claims more lives.
Even if it means giving up any chance at finding what Damiano and Enzo have found—that soul-deep connection that makes life worth living.
Even if it means never knowing what might have been.
I watch Lu from a distance as she speaks with Maria. Even from here, I can see the weight of grief pressing down on her shoulders. She takes Maria's hand, her face a mask of compassion that doesn't quite hide her own pain.
My arm throbs where the bullet grazed me, but it's nothing compared to the ache in my chest. I heard every word she said to Damiano. She's going to marry Bruno.
She's choosing duty over her own happiness.
The gray sky presses down, matching my mood.
Lu's face crumples for just a moment as Maria says something I can't hear. That brief flash of raw emotion hits me. She's taking on the weight of these deaths, these families' grief. She's offering herself up as a sacrifice to prevent more funerals.
My jaw clenches so hard my teeth might crack. This is wrong. All of it. She's already survived hell once. She shouldn't have to martyr herself again.
Before I can think better of it, I'm moving toward her. Maria has turned away to accept condolences from another family member, and Lu stands alone, looking lost.
"We should go," I say, my voice low and rough.
She startles, as if she'd forgotten I was there. "I need to stay for the reception."
"No, you don't." I step closer, close enough that no one else can hear. "You've done enough."
Her eyes flash. "I haven't done anything."
"Exactly." I glance around at the mourners, then back to her face. "This isn't your fault, Lucrezia."
"Isn't it?" She looks toward the fresh graves. "They died protecting our family."
"They died doing their job." The words come out harsher than I intended. "Just like I would."
Her eyes snap to mine, something fierce and wounded in them. "Don't say that."
The raw emotion in her voice catches me off guard. For a moment, we just stare at each other.
I break first. "Come on. I'm taking you home."
She hesitates, her gaze drifting back to the mourners. "I should stay."
"You've paid your respects." I keep my voice low, firm. "The car's waiting."
She nods finally, reaching into her coat pocket. Her fingers emerge with a set of rosary beads. Black onyx with a silver cross.
Lu's fingers tremble as she tries to wrap the beads around her wrist. They slip from her grasp, falling to the damp cemetery soil between us.
We both move at once. I'm faster, crouching down before she can bend. My fingers reach the beads first, but then her hand is there too, warm skin brushing against mine in the cold dirt.
The contact is electric. Her fingers freeze against mine, neither of us pulling away.
"Daniel..." Her voice is barely audible, a whisper meant only for me.
I look up, still crouched before her. Her face is inches from mine, eyes wide and vulnerable in a way I rarely see.
"Get me out of here before it's too late," she whispers, the plea raw and urgent.
I don't know if she means the cemetery or something more. But I don't hesitate.
"Yes." I close my fingers around the beads and her hand both, rising to my feet and drawing her with me. I slip the rosary into my pocket, not breaking eye contact.
I place my hand at the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd of mourners. I feel her trembling beneath my palm, but her steps are steady as we make our way to the waiting car.
Damiano catches my eye from across the gravesite. His expression is unreadable, but he gives a slight nod. Permission to take her home.
I open the car door for her, scanning the perimeter one last time before sliding in the driver's seat.
I guide the car out of the cemetery, stealing glances at Lucrezia in the passenger seat. She stares out the window, silent and still as a statue. The rosary beads feel heavy in my pocket.
"Do you want to go straight home?" I ask, breaking the silence.
She doesn't answer. Doesn't even look at me.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel. What the hell was I thinking back there? For a moment I thought her plea meant something else. Something more.
Get me out of here before it's too late.
But she meant the cemetery. The grief. The weight of those deaths. Nothing more.
I clear my throat. "Lucrezia?"
She blinks, finally turning her head slightly. "Home. Please."
Two words. That's all I get.
I nod and focus on the road, mentally kicking myself. This is exactly why Matteo warned me. I'm letting my feelings cloud my judgment, seeing things that aren't there.
The silence stretches between us like a living thing. I want to say something to break it, but what? Sorry I misread the situation? Sorry I can't stop thinking about you?
She's Lucrezia Feretti, member of one of the most powerful crime families in New York. And she's just agreed to marry Bruno Sartori.
The thought makes my jaw clench again. Bruno fucking Sartori. A man who sees her as nothing but a business acquisition. A trophy to hang on his arm.
She deserves better.
But it's not my place to say that. It's not my place to feel anything about it at all.
I glance at her again. Her profile is sharp against the gray day outside, her face a careful mask. But I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers twist together in her lap.
She's hurting. And there's not a damn thing I can do about it.
I'm too damaged for someone like her anyway. Too broken by what I've seen, what I've done. The nightmares that still wake me in a cold sweat. The way I can't walk into a room without checking all the exits.
She needs someone whole. Someone who can give her the life she deserves, not a scarred ex-soldier who kills for a living.