Chapter 35 #2
"I married the man I love." I held up my left hand, showing the rings we'd just bought that morning. "I know it seems sudden. I know it seems crazy. But after everything—the attacks, nearly dying—we realized life's too short. We didn't want to wait."
Silvio stared at the rings on my finger like they personally offended him. Then at Quentin. Then back at me. Something dark flickered in his eyes. "Jules, you married the man Carlo sent you to—look into. The man I'm supposed to—" He cut himself off, glancing at Stone and Serenity.
"They know," I said quietly. "They know everything. The assignment, the surveillance, all of it."
Silvio's face darkened. "Then you know how this looks."
"I know exactly how it looks. But Quentin didn't kill my father. I've spent weeks looking into it. I'm certain."
"Certain enough to legally bind yourself to him?"
The question was a knife.
"Yes."
He stood abruptly, pacing to the window. Stared out at the city.
The silence stretched. Uncomfortable. Tense.
Finally: "It's done? Legally done?"
"Yes. We have the marriage certificate to prove it."
"And you're flying to New York to meet with Carlo.” He turned, and his expression was almost panicked. "Why? Jules, there’s no way in hell he's happy about this."
"I know. That's why we're going in person. To explain. To ask for his support in planning a real wedding—a proper one, with both families."
"A real wedding." Silvio's laugh was harsh. "You think Carlo's going to throw you a party after you did this behind his back?"
"I think Carlo loves me enough to hear me out." I stood, crossing to where he was. "I need you to trust me on this. Please."
He studied me for a long moment. Then, surprisingly, his expression softened slightly. Not much. But enough that I could breathe again.
"You really love him."
Not a question. An observation.
"Yes."
"Even though Carlo will—"
"Yes." I didn't let him finish. "I love him, and I married him, and I need Carlo to understand."
Silvio slowly shook his head. "You're either incredibly brave or insanely stupid."
"Can't it be both?"
Despite everything, he almost smiled. Almost.
"He makes you happy?"
The question caught me off guard. Of all the things I expected Silvio to say, that wasn't it.
"Yes," I admitted. "He does."
"Then I'll stand with you." He moved toward the door, then paused, hand on the knob. Looked back at Quentin. "You break her heart, Vanetti, and assignment or no assignment, I'll kill you myself. Slowly."
"Noted," Quentin said evenly.
"And painfully."
"Getting the picture."
"With a rusty spoon."
"That seems excessive."
"I'm Italian. We're dramatic. And you just married into this family, so buckle up."
"Also noted."
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
Silvio crossed back to me, pulled me into a brief, tight hug. "When you meet Carlo, don't lead with the marriage certificate. Maybe ease into it."
"What do you suggest? Small talk about the weather first?"
"I suggest you have Stone standing nearby with a first aid kit."
"That's comforting."
He kissed my cheeks—traditional goodbye—then looked at all of us. "I'll fly out tonight. Be there for whatever happens next."
"You don't have to—"
"Yes, I do. You're family. Even when you're being an idiot." He nodded to Stone and Serenity before leaving.
The door clicked shut.
I sagged against Quentin's desk, adrenaline draining out of me like water from a broken glass.
"Well," Stone said. "That went better than expected."
"He threatened me with a rusty spoon," Quentin pointed out.
"But he didn't use a rusty spoon. That's progress."
"Your definition of progress is concerning."
Serenity stepped toward us. “I managed to touch his jacket when he hugged you.”
“You did?” My stomach knotted. “What did you see? Is he the killer?"
"I don't... think so." She bit her lip. "But I saw violence. Anger. Blood. One more thing… he’s lying. Probably about everything. He may not have pulled the trigger, but he had something to do with it.”
"Deceit is pretty much Silvio's baseline," I pointed out. "He’s cold-hearted. Always has been. The man carries three knives and a gun to the grocery store."
The room went quiet.
I sighed. "So we still don't know."
"We know he has the capacity for violence," Stone said. "We know he's a liar. And we know he threatened Quentin with creative cutlery."
"That last one feels less important," Quentin muttered.
"I disagree. The spoon detail suggests premeditation."
"Can we not analyze murder plans right now?" I interrupted. "I need to pack for New York and mentally prepare for Carlo to potentially kill my husband in a restaurant."
"Your husband," Serenity said softly, a small smile appearing. "That's going to take some getting used to."
"You're telling me." I glanced at my rings. "Twenty-four hours ago, I was single. Now I'm married and about to face my brother's wrath."
Quentin pulled me close. "We'll face it together."
"Very romantic," Stone said dryly. "Now can we focus? Your flight leaves in two hours. You need to be at the airport in ninety minutes. That gives us very little time to prepare for what could be a very dangerous meeting."
He was right. We needed to plan.
"What's the play?" Quentin asked.
"Honesty," Stone said. "You walk in, you tell him you're married, ask him to help you plan a proper wedding so you can draw out the real killer. Show him the evidence. I have it in an envelope to take with you."
"I've been thinking about this," I glanced between Quentin and Stone. "Margaret Chen's evidence pointed to three people with the right access: Filomena, Dominic, Silvio. We can't narrow it down further without tipping someone off.
"But Carlo needs to know. He's the Don—we can't plan a major family wedding without his involvement. And honestly? We need his resources. His security, his contacts, his authority to make this trap work."
Quentin nodded. "You're right. The wedding trap only works if Carlo's on board from the beginning. We need him as an ally, not an obstacle."
"Exactly. And Carlo's smart. He won't go charging in and confronting people. He'll understand the strategy—draw them out at the wedding where we control the environment."
"Once he hears us out," Quentin added carefully. "That's the key part. Once he sees the evidence."
"Right." My stomach tightened. "I'm just worried about getting to that point. The part where we walk in and tell him we got married and you're innocent. That first sixty seconds could go... badly."
"He might try to kill you first," Stone said bluntly.
Quentin nodded. "It's a risk we have to take."
“I’ll be there,” Stone said. “Bocelli's is public enough that he won't make a scene. Probably."
"Probably," I repeated. "That's not reassuring."
"Would you prefer I lie?"
"Yes, actually."
"Too bad. I don't coddle clients." Stone checked his watch. "You two need to go pack. Serenity and I will coordinate security on this end."
Quentin stood, pulling me up with him. "We should go."
"Yeah." I glanced at Serenity. "Thank you. For everything."
"Of course." She hugged me carefully. "Be safe. And Julia? I saw something else when I touched Silvio."
"What?"
"Family. Strong, protective family energy. Whatever chaos is coming, your family will be on your side."
That, at least, was something.