Chapter 17 #2
What the fuck would he do with a daughter he's never met? A daughter who's nothing but leverage?
If Orsini takes her, she becomes a bargaining chip. A body to trade. And when she's used up, when she's served whatever purpose he has planned—
I know how this ends. I've seen it end this way a hundred times.
"Luca." Valentino's voice cuts through the noise in my head. "What are you thinking?"
I clear my throat.
"She won't know."
Bruno's eyes sharpen. "Won't know what?"
"Any of it." I force the words out, each one heavier than the last. "She won't know her husband is alive. She won't know who her fucking father is. And she won't know the real reason we're doing this."
The room goes still.
"You'll marry her," Bruno says. Not a question.
"Yes."
"And you'll lie to her."
"Yes."
Valentino pushes off from the window. "What the fuck are you going to tell her, Luca? That you fell in love after a fucking week?"
"I'll tell her whatever I need to tell her." I keep my voice level, every word set down carefully.
Bruno watches me with those calculating eyes. I can see him working through the angles, measuring the risks, weighing the benefits. This is what he does. This is what makes him dangerous.
"You understand what this means," he says finally. "If you marry her, you're tied to Orsini. Whatever deal I make with him, you're part of it. You don't get to walk away."
"I fucking understand."
"And if she finds out the truth? If she discovers you've been lying to her from the start?"
She's been lied to her whole fucking life.
What's one more lie, if it keeps her alive?
"She won't find out," I say.
Valentino laughs again, but there's no humor in it this time. "You don't know women, Luca. They always find out."
"Then I'll deal with it when she does."
Bruno is silent for a long moment.
"There's one more thing," he says. "Orsini will want proof. He'll want to know the marriage is real. Consummated."
The word drives the air out of me.
"That's between me and her," I say.
"No." Bruno's voice goes hard. "It's between you and Orsini. He'll want confirmation. Medical, if necessary."
"Fuck that." The words come out louder than I intend. "You're not putting her through some fucking examination like she's livestock."
"Then make sure there's no question." Bruno's eyes don't waver. "Make sure Orsini has no reason to doubt that the marriage is real."
I want to break something. I want to put my fist through the wall, through Bruno's smug fucking face, through every piece of this shit situation.
Instead I stand there, hands clenched at my sides, and say nothing.
"Luca." Valentino's voice is quieter now. Almost gentle. "Are you sure about this?"
No. I'm not fucking sure about anything. I'm not sure why I stopped at that pharmacy. I'm not sure why I left my keys in the car. I'm not sure why I tracked her to that motel instead of letting her disappear into whatever mess she'd made for herself.
I'm not sure why the sight of her daughter hiding behind her legs made something crack open in my chest that I thought I'd sealed shut.
But I know what happens to women like Gemma in our world. I've seen it. I've been the one to clean up after it, more times than I can count.
Elena trusted me to keep her safe. I failed.
I won't fail again.
"I'm fucking sure," I say.
Bruno nods once. The movement is small, final. A decision made.
"We'll need to move fast," he says. "Orsini won't wait long. He'll make contact within the week, maybe sooner. By then, you need to be married."
"How the fuck am I supposed to convince her to marry me in a week?"
"That's your problem." Bruno's mouth curves into something that might be a smile on a different face. "You're the one who wanted to play hero, Luca. Figure it out."
Gemma
"And then you have to put the baby to sleep," Lily says, tucking a doll under a small fleece blanket. "But you can't sing too loud or she wakes up again."
Nina looks at me. Checking.
I nod. She turns back to Lily and accepts the doll she's handed.
I'm sitting on a low bench near the window, my back against the wall. The glass behind me is thick. I noticed that when we came in. Bulletproof, maybe. The kind of detail I wouldn't have registered a week ago.
Kristen left a few minutes ago to take a phone call. Antonella stayed. She's been quiet, watching the girls play, her hands folded in her lap. She doesn't seem nervous. She seems like someone who's learned how to wait.
I don't know what to do with my own hands. They keep wanting to move. I press them flat against my thighs, then stop because that feels wrong too.
Lily shows Nina how to rock the doll. Nina copies her exactly, her small face serious with concentration. When the doll's eyes close, Lily claps once, softly.
"See? You did it."
Nina's smile cracks open, quick and real. My chest aches.
A hand touches my arm.
I turn. Antonella's leaned closer, her voice low.
"I need to go," she says. "My baby girl needs to eat."
The words take a second to land. "Your baby?"
"Four weeks old." Her smile is tired and warm. "She's got her father's appetite. Every two hours, like clockwork."
Antonella stands, smoothing her shirt. "Kristen will be back in a minute. She'll stay with you. And the girls are fine here—this room is the safest in the house. No one gets in without clearance."
I nod. I don't know what else to do.
Antonella pauses at the door. "You're doing well," she says. "Better than I did my first day here."
Then she's gone.
The room feels bigger without her. Quieter, even though Lily's still chattering and Nina's still rocking the doll. I watch the door close behind Antonella and something in my chest pulls tight.
I think about the blood on the apartment floor. The bodies Luca stepped over like furniture. The sound Nina made when I covered her mouth.
And somewhere in this building, there's a baby who's four weeks old.
I don't know what that means. I don't know if it should make me feel better or worse. These people have children. They have playrooms, fleece blankets and dolls. They have a woman who smiles looking ordinary when she talks about her daughter's appetite.
They also have guns. They have men who kill people in hallways.
Both things are true. I don't know how to hold them in the same hand.
"Mommy?"
Nina's standing in front of me. I didn't hear her come over.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Lily says there's juice boxes in the little fridge." She points to a mini-fridge in the corner, painted to look like a ladybug. "Can I have one?"
"Sure."
She runs back to Lily. They crouch together in front of the ladybug fridge, whispering like they're planning something important.
The door opens. Kristen comes back in, phone tucked in her back pocket.
"Sorry about that." She sits on the bench beside me, leaving a comfortable distance between us. "My mother. She calls at the worst times."
"It's fine."
"She's sweet," Kristen says. "Your daughter."
"She is."