I catch myself mid-thought and stop.
When I bring them here.
Not if I go back to them. When I bring them here.
To this villa. This world. My world.
The realization sits heavy in my chest.
"Boss?" Ciro is still waiting. "You still okay?"
"Yeah. Fine." I move away from the window. "Let's look at those maps."
We go downstairs to what Ciro calls the "war room," a windowless space with a large table, computer equipment, and walls covered in maps and photos. Very different from the elegant rooms upstairs. This is where the real work happens.
On the table is a detailed layout of Florence. Red marks indicate the restaurant where the meeting happens every Thursday night. Blue marks show our positions, our exits, our contingency plans.
Ciro has been thorough. Two days of planning and we have it down to the minute.
"Thursday at 9 PM," Ciro says, pointing to the restaurant. "The Don arrives first, always. His three lieutenants show up withinten minutes of each other. They eat, they talk business, they leave before midnight."
"Security?"
"Two men outside. One driver for each of the lieutenants. The Don brings three of his personal guards." Ciro traces the positions. "We'll have six men total. Two on the outside guards, two on the drivers, two inside for the targets."
"And it needs to look internal. Like a coup."
"Exactly. That's why we're using weapons registered to one of their own lower-level soldiers, a guy named Tommaso who's been making noise about advancement. We set it up so it looks like he got ambitious, tried to take out the leadership."
"And Tommaso?"
"Will be found dead in his apartment the next day. Apparent suicide. Guilt over what he did." Ciro's voice is matter-of-fact. "Their organization thinks it's internal betrayal, not an outside hit. They turn on each other instead of looking for external enemies."
It's smart. Clean. The kind of operation that should work perfectly if we execute it right.
But I can't focus on it. My mind keeps drifting. Elena asking for me. Isabella trying to stay strong.
"Boss." Ciro is watching me. "You're distracted again. Are you sure you’re up for this?"
"I'm fine."
"You're thinking about them."
I don't deny it. "Did you deliver everything? The phone, the money?"
"Yes. Yesterday. She understood the situation: emergency use only, limited contact, careful spending." He pauses. "She asked how long. I told her a month."
"And?"
"She's scared. Trying to hide it, but she's scared." Ciro leans against the table. "The kid keeps asking for you. She told me to tell you that. Isabella asked if you talk about them," Ciro continues. "I told her yes. That it's all you talk about."
"It is."
Ciro studies me for a long moment. "What’s your plan? After we handle Florence?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, what happens after? You go back to the farm? Bring them here? Try to live both lives?" He crosses his arms. "You need to figure this out, boss. Because right now you're trying to be two different people, and that doesn't work long-term. Being distracted will get you killed or your men."
