And Dominic Costa didn't raise a victim who waits helplessly for men to save her. He raised a survivor. A fighter. Someone who understands this business from the inside.
I close my eyes and take a slow, controlled breath, forcing my racing heart to calm.
Think, Liana. Think strategically, the way Papa taught you.
I've been in business meetings since I was ten years old, sitting quietly in the corner and absorbing everything. I've watched Papa negotiate with men twice his size, turning their aggression against them. I've seen him turn apparent weakness into strength, fear into leverage.
What would he do in this situation?
He'd find the crack in their defense. The weakness in their plan. The angle they haven't considered.
My eyes open, and I study each of them carefully.
The younger one first—still nervous, still pacing, clearly having second thoughts about what he's gotten himself into.
Then Terzo—confident and in control on the surface, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. He's worried about something, maybe about whether this plan will actually work.
Then Scar—the wild card in this equation. Silent and watchful, impossible to read. He could be the most dangerous or the least committed.
Three different men. Three different vulnerabilities waiting to be exploited. I just need to find the right one. The weak link in the chain. But not yet. Not now while they're all watching.
Now, I wait with the patience Papa always said was my greatest strength.
Because when the opportunity comes—and it will come, they always do—I need to be ready to take it without hesitation.
These men are about to find out what happens when you underestimate a Costa.
Chapter 22: Santino
The call comes twenty minutes after Dominic arrives at the social club, twenty minutes of tense silence and mounting rage.
We're huddled around the scarred wooden table—me, Dominic, his men, my crew. Everyone's armed. Everyone's angry. The air is thick with violence waiting to be unleashed.
My phone rings from the unknown number. I answer immediately and put it on speaker so everyone can hear.
"Marcello." The voice on the other end is cold, confident. "I assume you got our message."
"Who is this?" I keep my voice steady even though my hands are shaking with suppressed fury.
"Roberto Benedetti. And I have something you want back."
Benedetti.
Fuck. Of course it's the Benedettis.
I should have seen this coming from a mile away. Bruno warned me about them. Paulie warned me. They all warned me the Benedettis were planning something, making moves.
I just never thought they'd go this far. Never thought they'd be stupid enough to kidnap a Don's daughter.
"Where is she?" I demand, my voice sharp.
"Alive. For now." He pauses deliberately, letting that sink in. "Whether she stays that way depends entirely on you."
Dominic's face goes dark, murderous intent written in every line. His hand moves instinctively toward his gun but I shake my head sharply. Not yet. Not while they have her.
"What do you want?" I ask.
"A conversation. Face to face." Roberto sounds almost amused by this entire situation. "You and me. We discuss terms like civilized men."
