Only Stefano stays back, silently walking next to me. Dried blood still cakes his skin from the glass as he scrubs at it with his hand.
“Thanks,” I say tightly. He turns to look at me. “For going with her.”
“I meant what I said.” His words are low enough so the others can’t hear. “I’m not leaving her. Unless she tells me to, and probably not even then. A lifetime is a long time to be your enemy, Domenico.”
I know that feeling. All too well. “You’re not my enemy.”
Perhaps he might have been. But there was no lie in Cat’s petrified face when she thought she had lost him.
Cat comes to a stop, turning. “Stefan.”
It’s not a request. He steps forward, Gio shifting to make space between him and Luc.
A message. The five heirs – now capos - of the Cosa Nostra.
United and strong.
“Domenico.”
I jerk my head to Cat. There’s a slight smile on her face as she tilts her head. Dante is already shifting, leaving a space between them on her right as he nods at me.
Ignoring the tightening of my throat, I walk up to them and take the place she offers me.
“So.” Luc turns to face forward, his mouth a tight line. “Let’s see what he’s left us to work with.”
27 – Luciano
The Courtyard is full.
Although I wouldn’t call it a crowd.
Pockets of people linger in small groups. Corvo, Morelli, V’Arezzo, Fusco, even a handful of Asante students. They whisper to each other as they back away to let us through, their eyes on Cat. On all of us.
She chose our entrance well.
But there are notenough. Not nearly enough, and by the tightening of Cat’s face, she realizes it too.
This is no army.
Too young, too raw.
Too scared.
And these are the ones who chose to stay.
Our enforcers are waiting beside the red oak tree. Shadows from the weight swinging from the branches next to them darken Nico’s face as he steps forward. “I’m fucking glad to see you, Luc.”
“Likewise.” Vincent has his head bent, murmuring to Cat as Rocco and Dante listen in. “Have you looked?”
He shakes his head, his mouth pressed into a grim line. “You said not to.”
I did. The message is mine. I won’t let anyone else carry the nightmare of whatever is waiting for me.
I turn to the oak tree – one part of this campus that does look untouched. The red leaves glisten like freshly spilled blood, and I sweep my eyes over the gift Matteo has left me.
Three bodies hang from the branches, swaying lightly in the breeze and covered in thick black plastic.
Three dark hoods cover their faces.
