"He told you what you wanted to hear." Vincent's voice was gentle. Patient. Like he was explaining something to a child. "Yourfather was grieving your mother. He was soft, emotional. He would have said anything to stop you from crying."
"That's not true—"
"Isn't it?" He stood, moving around the desk. "Think about it, Aria. Your father was a practical man. Did you really believe he'd throw away decades of alliance building because his eighteen-year-old daughter had a tantrum about her arranged marriage?"
The word tantrum made my face burn.
"It wasn't a tantrum. I just didn't want to marry a man who—"
"What you want is irrelevant." He cut me off, voice hardening. "Your father made his choices. Choices that got him killed. And now you're going to make better ones."
I flinched.
"The wedding is happening. The arrangement stands. In fact, it's more important now than ever."
"No." The word came out stronger than I felt. "I won't do it. You can't make me."
Vincent's expression didn't change. He just looked at me for a long moment, then walked to the window.
"You're right. I can't force you to marry Don Salvatore." He paused. "But I wonder—have you thought about what refusing will mean?"
"I don't care about the alliance—"
"I'm not talking about the alliance." He turned back to face me. "I'm talking about the people in this house. Maria, who's worked here for twenty years. Carlos at the gate who has three children. Rosa in the kitchen whose daughter just started college. All forty-seven people who work for the Romano family."
My throat tightened.
"Don Salvatore is a practical man. If you refuse to honor the agreement your father made, he'll see it as an insult. A broken promise. And broken promises have consequences in our world." Vincent moved closer. "The Accardi family won't just withdraw their protection. They'll see us as enemies. Liabilities. And they'll move to eliminate that liability."
"That's—they wouldn't—"
"They would. They have." His voice was calm. Matter-of-fact. "Every person who works for this family becomes a target. Every guard, every maid, every driver. Their spouses. Their children." He let that sink in. "Maria's grandson is six years old. Lives in the guest house with his mother. Such a sweet boy."
Ice flooded my veins.
"And it won't just be the Accardis. The other families will see our weakness. The Morettis have wanted our territory for years. The Vitales will smell blood in the water. Without the Accardi alliance, we're defenseless." He sat on the edge of the desk, looking down at me. "They'll come for everyone. And they won't be quick about it. They'll make examples. Send messages."
"You're lying." But my voice shook.
"Am I?" He pulled out his phone, scrolled through it, then showed me the screen. Photos. Carlos with his three daughters. Rosa's daughter in her college uniform. Maria's grandson playing in the garden.
"These people trust the Romano family to protect them. Your father promised them safety in exchange for their loyalty. Are you going to tell them that promise means nothing? That your feelings matter more than their lives?"
I couldn't breathe.
"And then there's your parents' legacy." Vincent pocketed his phone. "Everything your father built. Everything your mother loved about this family. The charitable foundations your mother started before she got sick—the children's hospital wing bearing her name, the scholarships for immigrant families. All of it will disappear when the vultures pick apart what's left of the Romano empire."
"Papa wouldn't want—"
"Your father wouldn't want his only daughter to be so selfish that she'd let everyone who depends on this family die." His voice turned cold. "He died trying to protect you. Trying to find a way to give you what you wanted. And look where that got him. Blown apart because someone saw weakness. Saw a don putting his daughter's happiness above familyloyalty."
The words were like a knife between my ribs.
"So here's what's going to happen, Aria." Vincent stood. "You're going to marry Don Salvatore. You're going to do it with a smile on your face and gratitude in your heart. Because the alternative is watching everyone in this house die. Watching your parents' legacy burn. And knowing it's all your fault."
"I can't—" My voice broke. "Please, Uncle Vincent. There has to be another way—"
"There is no other way!" His patience snapped. "This is the way. This has always been the way. You marry Salvatore, you secure the peace, you keep everyone alive. Or you refuse, and you condemn forty-seven innocent people to death because you're too much of a spoiled brat to do your duty."
