Then she's gone, leaving her absence like a cold spot in the warm room.
Pietro waits exactly three seconds. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong."
"Bullshit." He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "You've been off since yesterday. Dante mentioned you've been at the restaurant but it's more than usual."
I pour myself a drink from the bar cart, buying time. The whiskey burns, but not enough to wash away what I've beenthinking about all morning. Sophia Torrino, locked in that room above my restaurant.
"It's business," I say finally.
"It's always business." Pietro's jaw tightens. "The Torrinos?"
The irony almost makes me laugh.
I've been carrying secrets that would destroy this family. Secrets that would shatter Pietro and Nico's trust, Vittoria's faith, everything we've rebuilt since Riccardo's death.
"There's something you need to know." I set down my glass, meeting Pietro's eyes directly. "Sophia Torrino is locked in one of the rooms above Rosso's."
The transformation is instant. Pietro shoots to his feet, his face darkens from confusion to rage in the span of a heartbeat.
"What the fuck did you just say?" His voice drops to that deadly quiet tone that makes grown men piss themselves.
"Pietro—"
"You have a Torrino. In our building." Each word comes out like a bullet. "Francesco's niece?"
"She came to me for help."
"Help?" Pietro's laugh is sharp, ugly. "Are you out of your goddamn mind? After what that family did to us? After Luna?"
"This is different."
"Different?" He's across the room in three strides, getting in my face. "How is harboring our enemy's blood different? How is keeping this from me different?"
"Because she's running from them." I keep my voice level, refusing to match his aggression. "Francesco sold her to the Russians. To Daniil Morozov."
Pietro's jaw works, but the fury doesn't dim. "So? Let them have her. One less Torrino to worry about."
"She's twenty years old, Pietro. She has information?—"
"I don't give a fuck if she has the nuclear codes!" His fist slams into the wall beside my head. "You brought a Torrino intoour territory without telling me. You've been hiding her for—how long?"
"Last night."
"Last night." He steps back, running both hands through his hair. "Jesus Christ, Lorenzo."
"She has recordings. Evidence of Francesco's deals with the Russians. Details about the shipment they stole."
"And you believe her?" Pietro's voice cracks with disbelief. "After Luna played you exactly the same way?"
"This isn't the same."
"No? Young Torrino woman shows up desperate, needing protection, offering information?" He counts off on his fingers. "Sounds pretty fucking familiar to me."
"Luna came to me through the family. Sophia came alone, terrified, with actual evidence?—"
"Evidence you have verified?"
