"Because she's proven herself over and over again, and she has skills we need." I have rehearsed this in my head so many times, there's no way I could forget. But he unnerves me as he presses.
"That's one reason. What's the other?"
I hesitate, and Sal's eyes narrow slightly.
"Don't bullshit me, Rafe. I need the truth."
"I love her," I say quietly. "I don't know how it happened, but it did. And I won't let her go."
Sal is quiet for a long moment, then he exhales slowly and shakes his head. "Young love…" He chuckles warmly and pulls a cigar from his pocket, reaching to his other for the cutter. "I remember what that feels like. Makes you think you can reshape the world to fit what you want."
"This isn't just about what I want. She's good for the organization. She's already too deep to walk away clean. Keeping her makes sense."
"Does it? Or are you trying to justify keeping her because you're afraid of losing her?" He snips the cigar, pulls out a lighter, and lights it up, pulling in one long drag that makes the cherry glow bright red.
The question stings, and I don't have a good answer to give him. Sal watches me, waiting, and I see the conflict in his expression. He's not just my uncle. He's the head of the family and his loyalty is to the organization first, not to me.
"I understand what you're feeling," he finally says. "I do. But family can't be a sacrifice at the altar of your heart. We've built something here, Rafe. Something that's lasted fifty years with my father before me till now. And we've lasted because we don't take unnecessary risks. We don't keep people around just because we have feelings for them."
"She's not a risk. She's an asset, Sal." I look him straight in the eye and refuse to back down. "She's both. And you know it." He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
"Let me ask you something. If she weren't in your bed, would you still be fighting to keep her?"
I open my mouth to answer, but the words stick in my throat. Would I? Or is Sal right? Am I trying to justify this because the thought of losing her makes my chest feel like it's caving in? Do I even care that I'm basing this purely on emotion for her and not on the substance she could add?
"I'm not saying you're wrong," Sal continues, "I'm saying you need to be honest with yourself about why you're making this decision. If you keep her and she turns on us, that's on you. And I can't protect you from the fallout."
"She won't turn on us," I say stubbornly, but now in my heart, I know it. Riley won't turn any more than she'll run, and I just watched her stay.
"How do you know?"
"Because she had the chance to leave today and she didn't." I pick up my phone and pull up the security footage, turning the screen toward him. "She could have run and taken everything she knows straight to the FBI. But she stayed."
Sal watches the video with a thoughtful expression, and when it finishes he nods at me and lifts his eyebrows. "Hmm, well, she's surprising, but we have to manage risks."
"So, what are you saying? That I have to get rid of her?"
"I'm saying you have options. And you need to think carefully about which one you choose." He stands and walks to thewindow, looking out at the warehouse floor below. "If she finishes this job and delivers on everything you've asked her to do, and she proves she can be trusted, then we can talk about bringing her in."
"And if she doesn't?"
"I think we've already discussed my thoughts on that." He slides a hand into his pocket while he sucks on his cigar.
The words feel like a punch to the gut. "I understand."
He turns to face me, and I see the sympathy in his eyes. "I know this isn't easy, Rafe. I know you care about her. But integrity is everything in this life. We don't survive by making exceptions for people we have feelings for. We survive by doing what needs to be done, even when it hurts."
I stand and walk to the window beside him, staring out at the warehouse floor. The pallets are being loaded into the trucks, lined up at the loading dock. Everything is being prepared for the shipment to roll out.
This is my life. It's what I've built. And Riley is tangled up in it now, whether I intended that or not.
"For your sake," Sal says quietly, "I hope she does well and finishes this job. I don't want to see you lose her, but if it comes down to protecting you or protecting the family, I'll choose the family every time. You understand that, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Good." He claps a hand on my shoulder. "Then let's hope it doesn't come to that."
He walks out of the office, leaving me alone with the heaviness of his statement. Riley finishes this job, or I lose her. There's no middle ground—no compromise, just a choice that'll determine whether she stays or goes.
