And suddenly, I can’t fucking breathe.
Igor was telling the truth.
All of it.
She’s not smiling because she’s happy. She’s smiling because shehasto. Because if she doesn’t, she’ll pay for it later. Probably already has. I feel like my soul is being ripped in half. Like someone has reached into my chest and has pulled my heart out through a crack in my ribs.
You let her walk into this. You walked away and left her alone with him. You fucking knew what kind of man Roberto Giordano was.I accuse myself.
And I did nothing. Once again, Roberto wraps his arm around her waist and steers her toward the elevators like a man parading a trophy—Sophia's head is bowed, her eyes are cast down—and I finally see it.
She’s not his wife. She’s his prisoner.
I lurch forward. The instinct is primal. Irresistible.
Run.
Run to her. Rip his hands off her. Pull her into my arms like I did before. Shield her from everything—everyone.
Kill him.
Kill him.
But movement near the elevator stops me. Not just the guards trailing them—two of Roberto’s men, hands casually near their jackets—but others. Civilians. Doctors.Nurses. Two women, with a child in a wheelchair. A young couple holding hands.
Too many witnesses. Too many potential victims.
I’ve built my name, my business, myeverythingon upholding the Omertà. The real code, not the shit men like Roberto pretend to live by. And that code says one thing louder than anything else:Don’t involve civilians.
I can’t break it. Not even for her. Not here. Not now. Not when she’s not in immediate danger. It’s the only thing strong enough to hold me back—theonlything keeping me from tearing him apart where he stands.
You want to kill a monster? Fine. But don’t burn the hospital down around him.
My fists curl so tight my stitches pull, hot and wet under the gauze. I bite back the wince. I want the pain. Ineedit. Because if I don’t focus, if I don’t stay sharp, I’ll charge out there and do something stupid. Something loud. Something bloody. Somethingfast.
And that bastard doesn’t deserve fast. He doesn’t deserve one clean shot to the temple. He doesn’t deserve a painless exit. He deserves fear.
He deserves tosee me coming.
And Sophia?
She deserves more than a rescue. She deserves safety. She deserves toneverhave to look over her shoulder again.
This means I can’t go in guns blazing.
Not yet.
I take a step back into the shadow, my heart hammering like a war drum in my chest. I need my men. I need all of them. Because this isn’t going to be a kill, this is going to be a message.I’m going to drag Roberto Giordano out of his fortress of lies and burn everything he touches.
I’ll make him beg. Bleed. Scream.
I'll make his guards and his servants bleed and scream.
I'll make them all pay for every single second of pain Sophia has ever endured.
And I’ll make sure Sophia never has to hide a bruise again. I’m going to wage afucking war.
And it starts tonight.
