Marcello's voice is matter-of-fact. "He groomed all three of us. Julian's the politician—connections, charm, public face. Dominic's the analyst—numbers, patterns, long-term strategy.And I'm the fixer. The one who makes problems disappear legally."
"And me?"
"You're the devil," he smirks, so I know it's not an insult. It wouldn't have landed even if he'd meant it as such. I'm not ashamed of what I am. "The one who makes people afraid." He leans forward. "Antonio built an empire. He needed different tools to maintain it. You were always the most important tool. But not the only one."
I process this. All those years thinking Antonio saw his sons as soft. As weak. As separate from the family business was false.
"He played us all," I say quietly. I'm starting to wonder if any of us were any more than pawns to Antonio.
"He protected us, in his own ways," Marcello corrects. "Kept me and my brothers out of the dirty work so we'd be legitimate. Respectable. Able to operate in places you can't." He finishes his drink. "But he made sure we'd be ready when the time came."
"And now the time has come."
"Now the time has come." He stands. "So. You tell Adrian. He gets angry. Demands Gemma. Then what?"
"Then I give her to him." The words are easier to say than they should be. "Let him punish her. Let him feel like he has control. Then we move forward with the alliance intact, and Alexei's leverage is gone."
"And Gemma?"
"Will be fine. She knows how this all works."
There's doubt in his eyes, but he holds his tongue.
"When are you going?"
"Now. Tonight. Before I change my mind—" I stop myself. "Before Alexei can make another move. Timing is everything."
"Want backup?"
"No. This needs to be me. One Don to another." I grab my jacket. "But keep your phone on. If things go sideways, I'll need that legal backup ready."
"It'll be ready." He walks me to the door. Pauses. "Saint," he closes his eyes, sighing. "I think you're making a mistake."
I down my drink. "You're the one who told me I needed to consider getting rid of her."
"Because you love her." His words stop me. "And don't even pretend you don't. We're brothers. If anyone else betrayed you, you would have killed them, immediately. She barely got a slap on the wrist, and you've been fucking miserable without her."
I don't correct him. There's no point. Whether I love Gemma or not is irrelevant.
"This is necessary. She knew that when she made her choices."
"If you do this, she may never forgive you. Are you prepared for that?" His voice is quiet.
Gemma would forgive me. She plays hard, but she's warm, soft, pliant. She will understand. She'll take her licks, and then, we will be able to move on. Both of us.
"She made her bed."
Marcello looks at me for a long moment before shaking his head. "Not my business. But don't pretend this is just about protecting the family. Part of you wants to punish her. And that part might get you both killed."
He leaves before I can respond.
I stand there, hand on the doorknob, Marcello's words echoing.
Part of you wants to punish her.
No. That's not?—
This is strategy. Cold calculation. The hard choice that has to be made.
