"He will if Daniil helps him take it from us," Pietro says. His calm is more terrifying than rage would be. "How many families has he approached?"
"Four that we know of. The Greccos declined immediately—they remember what happened to the Morettis when they crossed us. But the others are considering."
The walls are closing in. Francesco's desperation makes him dangerous, like a wounded animal backed into a corner. He's throwing everything at the wall, hoping something sticks.
"We need to move first," Nico says. "Hit him before he consolidates support."
"That's what he wants," I counter. "If we attack now, we look like the aggressors. The smaller families will unite against us out of fear."
Pietro drums his fingers on the table—his only tell when he's thinking through violence. "We need better intelligence. Real-time information on his negotiations."
Sophia straightens in her chair. "I could call him."
Every head in the room turns to her.
"I could pretend to negotiate," she continues, voice steady despite the weight of our stares. "Tell him I'm scared, that I want to come home but need guarantees. It would buy you time and?—"
"Absolutely not." The words rip from my throat before I can stop them.
Sophia's eyes flash. "I'm not useless."
"No one said you were." My voice comes out harder than intended.
"Then let me help." She looks around the table, addressing everyone now. "Francesco thinks I'm weak, that I'd cave under pressure. He'd believe I'm scared enough to negotiate."
"It's too dangerous," I say.
"Everything about this situation is dangerous." She meets my gaze directly, and there's steel in those honey-brown eyes. "At least this way, I'm doing something instead of sitting here like dead weight."
Pietro leans forward, interested now. My brother loves tactical advantages, and Sophia just offered him one on a silver platter.
"Pietro, no." I don't care that I'm contradicting him in front of everyone. "Francesco's not stupid. If he suspects she's playing him?—"
"He won't," Sophia interrupts. "He's known me my whole life. To him, I'm still the little girl who spent three years nursing her dying mother and now is deep in grief. He has no idea who I really am."
"Neither do we," Nico points out, but there's less hostility in his voice now. He's considering the tactical benefits too.
Vittoria speaks up for the first time. "It could work. We'd need to prep her, make sure her story is airtight."
"This is insane." I look at Pietro, willing him to see reason. "We're not using her as bait."
"Wouldn't I be safer as useful bait than a useless burden?" Sophia asks, and the question hangs in the air like a challenge.
The room goes quiet. She's right and everyone knows it. In our world, useful people survive. Burdens disappear.
Pietro's dark eyes study Sophia with new interest, like she's a chess piece he hadn't considered before. "Tell me more about this plan of yours."
I can't let Sophia pitch her suicide mission. If she starts talking now, Pietro will see the tactical advantage and agree to something that'll get her killed. Francesco's desperate enough to hurt her if he suspects betrayal.
"I never finished explaining my idea," I say, cutting Sophia off before she can elaborate.
Every eye in the room shifts to me. Pietro's fingers stop drumming.
"You said we make her untouchable," Pietro prompts, impatience edging his voice.
I take a breath. The words feel like glass in my throat, but it's the only way. "She marries a Sartori."
The statement detonates like a bomb.
