Chapter 17 Damon
The family meeting is held in the back room of Romano's, the restaurant we've used for business discussions since I was a kid. Same scarred wooden table, same dim lighting, same smell of garlic and old cigarettes that never quite fades.
My father sits at the head of the table, flanked by my uncle Sal. Three other underbosses fill out the rest of the seats, men who've been part of this organization longer than I've been alive.
All of them are looking at me like I'm a problem that needs solving.
"The Verga situation is escalating," my father begins without preamble. "They hit one of our warehouses last night. Burned it to the ground."
"How much did we lose?" I ask.
"Two million in merchandise. But that's not the real problem."
"What is?"
"The real problem is that they're getting bold. Testing our responses. Seeing how far they can push before we push back."
Uncle Sal leans forward. "Word is they're planning something bigger. Something that'll take us out of the picture permanently."
"War," my father adds. "They want to eliminate both us and the Bonaccis while we're distracted by this alliance. Leave them in control of the entire territory."
I think about Viviana's instinct yesterday that something was wrong. The Vergas are definitely escalating.
"What's our move?" I ask.
"That depends," my father says, his eyes fixed on mine. "How much longer do you plan to keep Roberto's daughter?"
The question hangs in the air, loaded with implications. Because this isn't just about strategy anymore. Everyone in this room knows I've been protecting Viviana longer than strictly necessary.
"As long as it takes to eliminate the threat," I say carefully.
"And how long is that?"
"However long it takes."
Uncle Sal snorts. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer I've got."
"Is it?" My father's tone is deceptively calm. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you've gotten personally invested in this protection detail."
"I'm doing my job."
"Your job was to grab the girl, use her as leverage, and hand her back when the situation resolved. It's been weeks, Damon. The situation should have resolved by now."
"The Vergas are still a threat."
"Since when haven’t they been a threat?"
Uncle Sal clears his throat. "What your father's asking is whether you're keeping the girl because she's useful to the family, or because she's useful to you."
The accusation hangs between us. Because they're not wrong. I could have handed Viviana back to Roberto days ago. Could have negotiated a different kind of protection, something that didn't require her staying in my house, sleeping in my bed, sucking my cock.
"She's safer with me," I say finally.
"And why should we trust your judgment on this?" Timo asks. "You've been alone with her for weeks. She's young, she's beautiful, she's the enemy's daughter. You think we don't know what that does to a man?"
"My judgment's sound."
My father leans back in his chair. "That's what every man says when he's thinking with his dick."
The crude comment makes my fists clench, but I keep my tone level. "She's an asset. Nothing more."
"An asset you're reluctant to return to her father."
"I'm being cautious."
"Is that what we’re calling it now?"
We stare at each other across the table, and I see the calculation in his eyes. He's trying to figure out how much I've compromised myself, how much of a liability I've become.
"She's Roberto's virgin daughter," Uncle Sal says quietly. "If you've touched her..."
My father drums his fingers on the table. "We don’t need to tell you what happens if Roberto discovers you've dishonored his daughter."
"Roberto trusts me to protect her."
"Protection and fucking are different things, nephew." Uncle Sal's voice carries a warning. "One keeps you breathing. The other gets you buried."
My father sits back in his chair, studying my face. "The girl goes back to Roberto," he says finally. "Tomorrow."
"The Vergas are planning something bigger,” I say. “She's not safe there."
"Since when do we care about Roberto's security problems? That’s his goddamn problem."
"Since we formed an alliance to eliminate a mutual threat."
"An alliance that's served its purpose." My father's tone leaves no room for argument. "The girl becomes our liability if we keep her longer."
"Roberto's security failed once already. That's how she ended up with me in the first place."
"Explain to me how that makes her our problem? This has gone on too long."
"She's my responsibility."
"Why?"
The question I've been dreading. Because how do I explain that Viviana has gotten under my skin in ways I didn't think were possible? How do I tell my father that the thought of handing her back to Roberto makes me want to put my fist through a wall?
"Because I gave Roberto my word that I'd keep her safe."
"Your word. Not the family's word."
"My word is the family's word."
"Not when it conflicts with the family's interests."
"And what are the family's interests?"
"Ending this alliance with Roberto and getting back to business. We don't need the Bonaccis to handle the Vergas. We never did."
"You're wrong."
"Am I? Or are you just making excuses to keep the girl?"
The accusation hits home because it's partially true. I am making excuses to keep Viviana. Yes, I want her, but I also genuinely believe she's safer with me.
The problem is, I can't prove that without admitting how much she means to me.
"What do you want me to say?" I ask finally.
"I want honesty. Are you keeping her for the family's benefit, or your own?"
The direct question cuts through all the bullshit. Because he's right to ask it, and we both know the answer.
"Both."
He considers this. "At least you're not lying anymore."
The threat is implicit but clear. In our world, family loyalty is everything. If I'm seen as compromised, as putting personal interests above family interests, there will be consequences.
Permanent consequences.
"I need more time," I say.
"How much?"
"A week. Maybe two. To eliminate the Verga threat completely. To make sure she's safe."
"One week," my father says finally. "You have one week to resolve this situation. After that, the girl goes back to Roberto whether you like it or not."
"And if I refuse?"
"The consequences will be severe for both of you.”
The meeting ends shortly after that, with plans made for increased surveillance on Verga properties and discussions about potential retaliation for the warehouse burning. But I barely hear any of it. All I can think about is the ultimatum my father gave me.
One week to figure out how to keep Viviana safe without getting myself or her killed in the process.
Tommy drives me back to the safe house in silence, probably reading my mood correctly. When we pull into the driveway, I can see lights on in the kitchen windows. Viviana is probably finishing the dinner she was making when I left.
The thought of her cooking for me, waiting for me to come home, makes something twist in my chest. Because this is exactly the kind of domestic fantasy that could get me killed.
"Want me to stay close tonight?" Tommy asks as I get out of the car.
"No. But keep your phone on."
"Copy that."
I watch him drive away, then head for the front door. The house smells like garlic and herbs when I walk in, and I can hear Viviana moving around in the kitchen.
"Hey," she calls out. "How did the meeting go?"
"Fine," I lie.
She appears in the kitchen doorway, wearing one of my t-shirts over her jeans. The sight of her in my clothes does things to me that I can't afford to feel right now.
"You look like it went worse than fine."
"Just family business. Nothing I can't handle."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
She studies my face, then nods. "Dinner's ready if you're hungry."
"Thanks."
But I don't move toward the kitchen. I stand there looking at her, trying to memorize the way she looks in the warm light, the way she smiles at me like I'm someone worth coming home to.
"Damon? You're scaring me a little."
"Sorry. Just thinking."
"About what?"
About how I have one week before you’re taken away from me. About how I've compromised everything I've built my life on for a woman I've known for weeks. About how the thought of losing you makes me want to burn the world down.
"About how complicated this has gotten," I say instead.
She moves closer, close enough that I can smell her shampoo.
"Maybe complicated isn't always bad."
"Complicated gets people killed in my line of work."
"Then maybe we need to change your line of work."
I stare at her, surprised by the boldness of the suggestion. "You don't understand what you're asking. You don’t leave the family. Not alive."
"Then show me what it means to be all yours. Show me what I’ll be losing."
"Viviana—"
"I know you want me. I can see it in the way you look at me, the way you touch me. Stop fighting it."
"My family will never accept this relationship between us."
"Then we'll deal with your family."
"Your father will kill me if he finds out. He’s old school. There are rules about this kind of thing."
"He won't find out."
"Viviana—"
"Stop thinking, Damon. Just for tonight, stop thinking and feel."
And God help me, that's exactly what I do.
When I kiss her, it's with all the desperation I feel. When she kisses me back with equal hunger, equal desperation, I know we're both lost.
"Upstairs," I manage against her lips.
"Yes."
The sound of gunfire stops us before we make it to the stairs.