Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Bruno
Pietro's office is too bright for three in the morning.
Every lamp is on. The overhead lights too. Like someone decided sleep was optional and wanted the rest of us to suffer.
Valentino stands by the window, arms crossed. Liam sits in one of the leather chairs, a tablet in his hands. Pietro is behind his desk, papers spread in front of him like a war map.
I wheel myself to the empty space beside Liam's chair.
"What's the emergency?" I ask.
Pietro doesn't answer immediately. He looks at Liam instead.
Liam clears his throat. "Eraldo Romano."
"What about him?"
Liam turns the tablet toward me. The screen shows a series of photographs. Eraldo at a poker table. Eraldo at a roulette wheel. Eraldo accepting chips from a dealer in what looks like a high-end casino.
"These were taken over the past seventy-two hours," Liam says. "In New York."
I stare at the images.
The mission to New York was supposed to be a test. Simple work. Meetings with associates. Nothing that required money or access to anything he could gamble.
"How?" I ask. "We control his accounts. Every dollar he touches goes through us."
"He found a way around it." Liam swipes to another image. A receipt. "He's been borrowing against future earnings. Promising people he'll pay them back once he's in better standing with the family."
"Whose family?" Valentino asks from the window. "His or ours?"
"Ours." Liam's voice is flat. "He's been telling people he's connected to the Sartoris now. That his daughter married into the family. That he's good for the money."
Red edges into my vision.
"He's using Antonella's name to gamble."
"Yes."
I grip the armrests of my wheelchair until my knuckles go white.
"How much does he owe?"
"So far? Forty thousand." Liam sets the tablet down. "But he's still playing. The number will be higher by morning."
Pietro leans back in his chair. His expression is unreadable.
"The mission was a test," he says. "We wanted to see if he could be trusted with simple tasks. If he could follow instructions without supervision."
"He failed," I say.
"Spectacularly."
Valentino moves away from the window. "What about the son? Claudio?"
Liam pulls up another file on his tablet. "Different story entirely. Claudio Romano has exceeded every expectation we set for him."
I look at the screen. Reports. Numbers. Assessments from the men who've been working with him.
"He's smart," Liam continues. "Capable. Learns fast. The import business is already running more efficiently than it did under his father's management."
"So the son is competent," Valentino says. "And the father is a liability."
"That's the summary, yes."
Pietro drums his fingers on the desk. "There's more."
Liam nods. He swipes to a new screen. Text messages. Phone logs.
"The youngest daughter," he says. "Gianna Romano. She's been trying to contact her father for the past two days."
I lean forward. "Trying how?"
"Calls. Texts. She's getting worried." Liam scrolls through the messages. "She thinks something happened to him. She's been asking Claudio if he knows where their father went."
"Does Claudio know?"
"He knows Eraldo is in New York on business for us. He doesn't know about the gambling."
Pietro looks at me. "Vittoria installed monitoring software on everyone's phones. Family and extended family. We see every call. Every message. Every search."
"Gianna's messages to Eraldo are getting desperate," Pietro continues. "If he doesn't respond soon, she'll escalate. She'll call Antonella. Maybe even try to come to New York herself."
"She's nineteen," I say. "She doesn't know anything about this world."
"Which makes her dangerous." Valentino crosses his arms. "Unpredictable. She could cause problems without meaning to."
The room falls silent.
Pietro's eyes stay on me. Waiting.
"What do you think we should do?" he asks.
The question hangs in the air.
This is another test. I can feel it. Pietro wants to see how I handle this. How I think. How I lead.
I take a breath. Let it out slowly.
"Eraldo is a problem," I say. "But he's not our biggest problem right now. He's contained in New York. We know where he is. We know what he's doing. We can deal with him when he gets back."
Pietro nods. "Go on."
"Gianna is the immediate concern." I think through the options. "If she panics and does something stupid—calls the wrong people, shows up in New York, starts asking questions—she could expose things we don't want exposed."
"So what do you suggest?"
"Someone needs to talk to her. Calm her down. Make her believe her father is fine and just busy with work."
"Who?" Valentino asks.
I already know the answer. I don't like it, but I know it.
"Antonella. Gianna trusts Antonella. If anyone can convince her to stop worrying and wait for Eraldo to call back, it's her."
"And what do we tell Antonella?" Liam asks. "About her father's gambling?"
That's the harder question.
If I tell her, it will destroy her.
"We don't tell her," I say.
Pietro raises an eyebrow. "Don't tell her what?"
"About the gambling. About any of it." I grip the armrests tighter. "She doesn't need to know."
Valentino shifts his weight. "She's going to find out eventually."
"Eventually isn't now." I look at Pietro. "Right now, the priority is keeping Gianna calm. If Antonella knows her father is gambling again, she'll spiral. She'll want to fix it. She'll want to go to New York herself. She'll make this worse."
"So what's your plan?" Pietro asks.
"Antonella brings Gianna here. To the compound. Until Eraldo gets back."
Liam frowns. "Under what pretense?"
"Family visit. Sisters missing each other. Whatever story Antonella wants to tell." I think through the logistics. "Gianna stays here where we can watch her. She stops sending desperate messages to her father. She stops being a liability."
"And Antonella?" Valentino asks. "She just... doesn't ask questions?"
"She'll ask questions. But she doesn't need to know the answers." I meet his eyes. "Not yet. Not until we've handled Eraldo."
Pietro is quiet for a long moment.
"You're protecting her," he says finally. "From her own father."
"I'm protecting the family. All of it." I don't look away from him. "Antonella included."
Pietro studies me. I can't read his expression. Can't tell if he approves or thinks I'm making a mistake.
"And Eraldo?" he asks. "What do we do about him?"
"Tomorrow." I exhale slowly. "We handle him tomorrow."
Pietro nods slowly. "Alright. We do it your way." Pietro stands. "We're done here. Get some sleep. All of you."
The meeting breaks up. Liam gathers his tablet and leaves first.
I wheel myself toward the door. Valentino falls into step beside me as I enter the hallway.
"Where were you?" he asks.
I don't look at him. "What?"
"Before the meeting. You weren't in your room."
"I was awake."
"That's not what I asked."
I keep moving. The wheels of my chair are silent on the hardwood floor.
"I couldn't sleep," I say. "I was... around."
Valentino doesn't respond immediately. His footsteps are steady beside me.
"Around," he repeats.
"Yes."
Antonella
I didn't sleep. Not really. After Bruno left for his meeting, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying everything that happened between us.
I thought he'd come back.
He didn't.
I waited for hours. Listened for the sound of his wheelchair in the hallway. The creak of my door opening. His voice in the darkness.
Nothing.
We didn't agree he'd return. We didn't make any promises. But somewhere between his hands on my body and his confession that he doesn't know how to let someone in without destroying them, I expected... something.
Stupid. I'm being stupid.
I throw off the covers and get dressed. Jeans. A sweater. Something simple.
I pass Giulia in the kitchen, and she offers me coffee, but I shake my head.
"I need air," I tell her.
She nods like she understands.
The garden entrance is at the end of the east wing. I've walked this path a dozen times since arriving here.
I need that right now. Something to drown out the noise in my head.
I'm three steps from the door when a figure moves into my path.
Valentino.
He stands with his arms crossed, blocking the exit. His dark eyes study me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.
"Where are you heading?" he asks.
"The garden." I gesture past him. "Is that a problem?"
"No." He doesn't move. "But I need a word first."
I blink at him. "A word?"
"Yes."
This is strange. Valentino has barely spoken to me since I arrived. He's always hovering near Bruno, watching everything with those sharp eyes, but he's never sought me out directly.
"Okay," I say slowly. "What about?"
"Walk with me."
He turns and starts down the hallway without waiting for my response. I hesitate for a moment, then follow. What choice do I have?
We walk in silence for a minute. Valentino's stride is long, and I have to quicken my pace to keep up. He leads me away from the garden entrance, toward a quieter part of the compound I haven't explored yet.
"What is going on between you and Bruno?"
The question comes without warning. No preamble. No softening.
I almost laugh.
Men. They really don't care about manners, do they? He's talking to me like I owe him answers. Like I'm required to explain myself to him simply because he asked.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me." Valentino stops walking and turns to face me. "What is going on between you and my cousin?"
I cross my arms, mirroring his posture. "I don't see how that's any of your business."
"Everything about Bruno is my business."
I hold his gaze. Don't flinch. Don't look away.
"If you want to know what's happening with Bruno," I say, "maybe you should ask Bruno."
Valentino's expression doesn't change.
Finally, he sighs. The sound is heavy, exhausted.
"Bruno is hanging from the finest thread right now," he says. His voice is quieter now. Less demanding. "He has been for months. Years, maybe. But these past few weeks..." He shakes his head. "Something is different."
I don't respond. I'm not sure what he wants me to say.
"He's been different since you arrived," Valentino continues. "I've watched him. The way he looks at you. The way he talks about you." He pauses. "The way he disappeared last night and came back looking like someone had reached inside his chest and rearranged everything."
My heart stutters.
"If there's something going on between you two—"
"Why does it matter?" I interrupt.
Valentino's eyes bore into mine. "Because if you're playing games with him, if you're using him for something, I will end you myself. Slowly. Painfully. And no one in this family will stop me."
The threat hangs in the air between us.
I should be afraid. This man is dangerous. I've seen the way the guards defer to him, the way even Pietro listens when he speaks. He could hurt me. Kill me. Make me disappear.
But I'm not afraid.
I'm angry.
"I'm not playing games," I say. My voice is steady.
"I didn't ask for any of this. Bruno is the one who keeps pushing me away and then pulling me back.
Bruno is the one who doesn't know what he wants.
So if you're looking for someone to blame for whatever is happening between us, maybe start with him. "
I'm breathing hard by the time I finish. My hands are shaking.
Valentino stares at me for a long moment.
Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. But close.
"Good," he says.
"Good?"
"You have fire." He uncrosses his arms. "Bruno needs someone with fire. Someone who won't let him drown in his own darkness."
I don't know what to say to that.
Valentino turns and starts walking again. After a moment, I follow.
"He cares about you," Valentino says without looking back. "Whether he admits it or not. Whether he even understands it himself. He cares."
"How do you know?"
"Because he's terrified." Valentino glances at me over his shoulder. "Bruno doesn't get terrified of things that don't matter to him."