Antonio nodded shakily.
"Good. Because if you tell anyone what really happened, we won't just expose your gambling debts to your father. We'll expose them to your bookies too. Let them know you've been lying about your ability to pay." Luca stood. "Those guys don't have our restraint. They'll kill you and dump you in the river. So. Clumsy accident. Yes?"
"Yes," Antonio managed. "Accident."
We left him there bleeding and terrified. Took the service stairs down to the kitchen level. The staff barely glanced at us—they'd learned long ago that the best policy was to see nothing, know nothing, say nothing when it came to men in expensive suits moving through back corridors.
We emerged into a loading bay. Cool night air hit me like a slap. I pulled out my phone and texted Emilio:Had to handle something. Back shortly. Stay where you are.
His response came immediately:Everything okay?
Fine. Business thing. Back in five minutes.
I pocketed the phone and turned to Matteo. "Are you calm now?"
"Define calm."
"Can you walk back into that ballroom without beating anyone else bloody?"
He took a breath. Let it out slowly. "Yeah. I'm good."
"You're not good. You lost control." Elio's voice was sharp. "We're three weeks from trial. The prosecution would lovenothing more than evidence that we're violent thugs who intimidate witnesses. You just gave them ammunition."
"He was threatening Emilio. In public. Laughing about it." Matteo's jaw was tight. "What was I supposed to do? Let him run his mouth?"
"Yes. Let him run his mouth. Ignore him. Report it to Sandro and let us handle it strategically." Elio stepped closer. "You're better than this, Matteo. You're smarter than this. Don't let Antonio Costello goad you into making mistakes."
"Elio's right," I said. "Antonio wanted a reaction. Wanted to prove we're dangerous. You gave him exactly what he wanted."
"I gave him a broken nose and a reminder that there are consequences for threatening people I—" Matteo stopped. Corrected himself. "People we protect."
I noticed the slip but didn't comment. "We need to get back inside. Separately. Luca, you go first. Use the main entrance. Make sure you're seen. Elio, you go through the kitchen. I'll take Matteo through the side entrance by the bathrooms. We stagger our returns. Make it look like we were just scattered around the event."
They nodded and dispersed. I grabbed Matteo's arm before he could follow.
"Clean your knuckles. There's blood." I handed him my pocket square. "And Matteo? Thank you for defending Emilio. But next time, let me know before you shatter someone's face in a public venue."
"There won't be a next time. Antonio got the message." He wiped his knuckles clean. Most of the blood came off but his right hand was already swelling. "They all will."
We entered through the side corridor by the restrooms. A few people glanced our way but nobody questioned it. Just two men returning from wherever they'd been. Perfectly normal.
The ballroom was still packed. String quartet still playing. Donors still drinking and networking and pretending their charity absolved them of their various sins. Nobody looked alarmed. Nobody was whispering about violence or security incidents.
Good. Maybe we'd gotten out before anyone important noticed.
I scanned the crowd for Emilio and found him near the bar talking to Senator Williams. The senator was gesticulating enthusiastically about something—probably campaign finance reform, his pet issue. Emilio was nodding politely, looking engaged despite probably being bored out of his mind.
I approached and placed my hand on Emilio's waist. Possessive. Claiming. "Senator Williams. Always a pleasure. I hope you don't mind if I steal Emilio away. We have an early morning tomorrow."
"Of course, of course." The senator shook Emilio's hand. "It was lovely talking with you, Mr. Rossi. You've got a sharp mind. Vitale's lucky to have you."
"I'm the lucky one," Emilio said smoothly.
We moved toward the exit. I kept my hand on his back, guiding him through the crowd. Several people tried to stop us for conversation but I deflected with practiced ease. "Another time. Emilio's not feeling well. Need to get him home."
"I'm fine," Emilio said once we were out of earshot. "What's really going on?"
"I'll tell you in the car. Right now we need to leave before hotel security starts asking questions."
