My thoughts.
My heart.
I sit there in the silence, the smoke fading, the weight settling heavy in my chest. I’m expected at the gala. Fran will be waiting. The Families will be watching. The world will continue to spin.
But upstairs… Elizabeth sleeps in my bed, trusting me, breathing easy, wrapped in the warmth we created. And I know one way or another I’m about to betray someone.
Maybe even both of them.
Lifting the phone on my desk, I call Cesaro. He appears in the study a moment later, sharp-eyed and steady, the way he always is.
“Everything okay?” he asks, closing the door behind him.
I exhale, leaning back in my chair as I meet his gaze. “I’ve been sleeping with Elizabeth.”
He pauses mid-step, then lets out a low whistle before sinking into the chair across from me.
“Well, that’s not what I was expecting you to say.”
“She’s more than just a fling, Cesaro.” My voice is low. “It’s serious.”
“How serious?”
I weigh my words. “Too serious.”
He mutters a curse. “Fuck.”
I nod, eyes unfocused, staring through the haze of everything unraveling around me. “Fran’s father just called. Threatened me without needing to raise his voice.”
“Want me to take care of him?” Cesaro says, half-joking. Half not.
“The human side of me wants to say yes.” I give a bitter laugh. “But the Don in me? He knows Federico isn’t entirely wrong. I’m losing control of the optics with Fran. With the girl upstairs. With everything.”
Cesaro leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His silence is heavy, contemplative.
“May I speak freely?”
“Always,” I say, even though I already know what’s coming.
He snorts softly but doesn’t look away. “If you love Miss Miller, if this thing between you and her means something real—then you owe it to her to end things with Fran. Officially. No more dragging your feet.”
“And if I can’t?” I ask, voice low.
“Then you send Miss Miller away,” he says evenly. “Because keeping her here and feeding her half-truths while keeping Fran on your arm for show is going to break her, Lorenzo. And worse, it’s going to break you.”
A long silence stretches between us. The only sound is the ticking of the old clock in the corner.
I already know what I have to do. The question is do I have the spine to do it?
“Thank you, friend. You always know what to say.”
Cesaro nods solemnly. “I’m sorry I can’t give you the answer you want.” He pauses, the weight of the past weeks etched in the lines around his eyes. “There are still no new leads on who came after Sienna that night.Il Macellaiois laying low, which is good—for now. Maybe he made his point.”
Maybe.
But as I replay Federico’s warning, a different realization settles into my bones. If I want to protect Elizabeth, to keep her close, to keep her safe, I have to end the performance.
I push to my feet, purpose crystallizing in my chest. “Have the car ready by eight. I’m going to the gala tonight.”
