13. Caterina #2
"Then give me the fucking biometric codes for the study, Caterina!
" Matteo shouts, his desperation amplifying his aggressive demands.
"We cannot breach the interior fortress without the digital algorithms securing those mahogany doors.
He spends every morning locked inside that room, completely isolated from his exterior guard details.
You steal the sequence from his encrypted servers, transmit the numbers to this device, and we will handle the rest. We will flood the bootlegger tunnels, bypass the electronic deadbolts, and put a bullet in his skull before he even reaches for his customized weapon. "
The horrific scenario plays out in my imagination with devastating clarity, a brutal assassination orchestrated directly through my own treacherous complicity.
If I hand over the numerical sequences, Matteo will march his fanatical soldiers into my home, staining the imported Turkish rugs with Alessio's blood, permanently extinguishing the magnificent, fiercely protective fire burning inside my husband's chest. I picture the man who held me against the bathroom tile, the man who absorbed his father's abusive wrath to protect his brother, bleeding out across the mahogany desk, and a visceral, violently unexpected wave of nausea rolls through my stomach.
I cannot facilitate his murder. I cannot betray the ruthless enforcer who conquered my body and somehow managed to claim a terrifying, undeniable piece of my soul in the process.
"I need more time," I whisper into the receiver, my voice shaking as I attempt to stall the impending execution. "The encryption is incredibly complex, and he rarely leaves his tablet unattended."
"You are out of time, Caterina," Matteo issues his final, uncompromising ultimatum, the threat hanging maliciously in the space between us.
"You secure those access codes, or we will breach the perimeter blindly, and I will ensure every single surviving syndicate in this city knows exactly who betrayed the Falco legacy.
If you refuse to cooperate, you become an enemy of the traditionalist faction, and we will not hesitate to burn that entire estate to the ground with you trapped inside it alongside your Severato master. "
The line goes dead with a harsh, unforgiving click, leaving me standing in the center of the sprawling dressing room, clutching the cheap plastic device while conflicting loyalties actively tear my mind apart into a million jagged pieces.
I resume pacing the length of the room, my chest heaving with erratic, panicked breaths as I analyze the impossible, devastating choices laid out before me.
If I extract the algorithms and transmit them to Matteo, I secure my liberation from this gilded cage, restoring the Falco name to its former glory and proving my ultimate allegiance to the bloodline that raised me.
But the cost of that freedom is Alessio's life, a price I am fundamentally, completely unwilling to pay.
I cannot sacrifice the arrogant conqueror who infuriates me, the man who drives me completely insane with his demanding possessiveness, simply to place a cowardly, manipulative rat like my cousin onto a stolen throne.
Conversely, if I refuse the demand, Matteo will label me a traitor to my own family, essentially aiding the enemy syndicate and forever destroying my reputation within the Boston underworld.
He will launch a suicidal siege against the compound, endangering the lives of everyone inside these walls, creating a catastrophic bloodbath that will inevitably force Alessio to uncover my initial deceit.
My husband is a man who demands absolute truth, and discovering that I smuggled a communication device into his home to converse with the rebellion will undoubtedly trigger a wrath I cannot possibly survive.
I stop in front of the vanity mirror, staring at the flushed, terrified woman staring back at me, realizing I have reached the absolute precipice of this disastrous game.
The aristocratic hostility and the fierce, combative pride I wielded like weapons are no longer sufficient to navigate this incredibly lethal minefield.
I must make a definitive choice between the ghosts of my incinerated past and the violently unpredictable reality of my future.
I look down at the plastic device resting in my palm, my thumb hovering over the power button.
Alessio stole my ancestral home, he restricted my freedom, and he forced me into an arranged marriage built on extortion, but he never threatened to burn me alive or manipulate my existence from the cowardly safety of the shadows. He is a beast, but he is my beast now.
With a shaking hand, I press the button, watching the screen flicker and fade into complete, irrecoverable darkness, effectively severing my ties to the traditionalist rebellion.
I kneel on the plush carpet, shoving the powered-down phone into the furthest, darkest corner of the mahogany cabinet, burying it beneath a mountain of discarded linens.
I am choosing the man who stole my home over the family that raised me, silently accepting my position as the treacherous Queen of the Severato syndicate, delaying the execution and preparing my mind for the magnificent, terrifying fallout that will inevitably crash down upon us both.