I glance up at him. “My sister, Enzo.”
His jaw ticks. That’s all I need.
“That’s a yes,” I say quietly.
“I didn’t want to tell you until we had more. It’s early. Unconfirmed.” His tone is even, but there’s a tightness behind it.
“Is it bad?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Are you lying to me?”
His head jerks down, eyes sharp. “No. Don’t ask me that.”
“I need to,” I say. “Because if I find out later that you were protecting me instead of being honest…”
“I’m not.” He shifts to face me more fully. “I won’t lie to you. Not ever. But sometimes, I have to be careful with how much I give you all at once.”
“Because I’m fragile?”
“Because I love you. And because there are some truths I want to confirm before I hand them to you.”
That silences me.
His hand spreads protectively across my lower belly. “We’ll find her,amore.But not recklessly. Not until I know she won’t hurt you.”
“Do you think she’s dangerous?”
His voice is quiet. Absolute. “We’re not sure right now.”
I nod, leaning into the promise behind his words. I don’t press for more, but I know he’s already put the wheels in motion. That something is brewing behind those eyes.
And whatever it is…he’s going to carry it for me, whether I ask him to or not. Because that’s the kind of man he is. And I love him for it.
Even when it terrifies me.
The penthouse feels too stilltonight.
Enzo’s been gone all day, planning moves that reach into places I can’t see yet. I should be in bed. Resting. Pretending the world outside these walls isn’t sharpening its teeth.
Instead, I find myself staring out over the city, lights winking like they know something I don’t. Somewhere out there—beneath all that glass and steel—my father is breathing the same air as me. He’s not in some gilded office or high-rise suite anymore. He’s sitting in one of Enzo’s warehouses—concrete floors, no windows, one steel door that only opens for the men guarding him.
Waiting for me.
It’s not lost on me that Enzo could’ve ended this already. One call, one bullet, and the world would be rid of him. But he hasn’t. Because he promised me that decision was mine.
I’ve imagined this moment a hundred different ways. In some, I’m screaming, tearing myself apart until my throat is raw. In others, I’m silent, watching the light leave his eyes as if it means nothing. But the truth? I don’t know who I’ll be when I finally stand in front of him.
I turn from the window, my hand brushing over my stomach—a habit I can’t seem to stop. A reminder that every choice I make now isn’t just mine.
The soft click of the door draws me back. Enzo steps inside,all dark lines and quiet gravity, carrying the weight of things he won’t say.
“He’s still breathing,” he says without preamble. “For now. He finally opened his mouth, but it was nothing worth hearing. Just venom. Empty words.”
“Do you think he’ll ever give us anything useful?”
Enzo shakes his head once. “He swore he’ll never hand us Falco. Then he told my men to torture him, to end it.”
