But even her comfort can’t touch the depth of his grief.
I stand there watching this powerful man reduced to raw anguish, and I finally understand the true cost of the choices made nineteen years ago.
Not the political implications or the strategic consequences, but the human price of loving someone enough to lie to them, only to lose them when the truth finally surfaces.
Some wounds, I realize, cut deeper than any physical violence our world can inflict. Some losses hurt more than death itself.
The man who raised Bianca DeLuca is learning that the hardest part of loving someone isn’t protecting them from the world.
It’s accepting that sometimes your protection becomes the very thing that drives them away.
15
BIANCA
The guilt hits me in waves as I sit in the back of the town car, heading toward what the Families have designated as my third trial location.
I can’t stop thinking about dinner the other night.
About the way Arianna’s face crumpled when I rejected her request to play or Giovanni’s confused stare when I spoke to him like a stranger instead of the big sister who used to make him laugh.
Or Bella’s tears that I pretended not to see.
My stomach clenches as I remember their faces.
God, what kind of monster treats innocent children like that?
They didn’t lie to me.
They didn’t betray me.
They’re fucking babies who love me unconditionally, and I threw that love back in their faces because I was angry at Matteo.
Hot tears well up in my eyes and I lean my head back, willing the tears to go away.
I take deep breaths to calm myself down.
The worst part is Alessandro’s reaction afterward.
The silence in the car when he dropped me off, the way he declined my invitation to come up to the penthouse. “I have a lot on my mind,” he’d said, but I could see the judgment in his eyes. The disappointment.
That rejection stung worse than anything that happened at dinner.
You’re pathetic,Giuseppe’s harsh voice sneers in my head.Weak. Worrying about the feelings of children when you should be focused on power.
They’ll never forgive you anyway,Sophia’s voice whispers with cruel satisfaction.You’ve shown them who you really are. Might as well embrace it completely.
I wait for Matteo’s voice to chime in, but there’s only silence where his guidance used to be. Even in my own head, he’s gone quiet.
“Shut up,” I hiss, clamping my hands over my ears, my jaw clenched so tight it hurts my teeth. “Both of you, just shut the fuck up.”
But the voices don’t disappear. They never do anymore.
The warehouse in Queens looks exactly like what it is—a place for off-the-books operations.
Dominic Calabrese waits outside with Don Vitelli and Alberto Marconi, their presence telling me this trial will be scrutinized closely.
“Miss DeLuca,” Dominic says with his oily smile. “Ready for your next test?”
