"That's not what I asked."
I don't answer. Can't. Because the truth sits in my chest like a loaded weapon, and I've spent thirty years learning not to pull that trigger.
"Nico." Pietro's voice softens—rare enough that it makes me look up. "Love isn't always a liability."
"In our world, it is."
"Nora isn't."
"Nora is different. She grew up in this life. She knows the rules, the risks." I gesture toward the monitors. "Kristen is a civilian. A mother. She shouldn't be anywhere near this."
"And yet here she is."
"Because I brought her here." The admission burns. "Because I couldn't leave her alone in that apartment waiting for the Bratva to come collecting."
Pietro crosses his arms. "So what's the play?"
I've been running scenarios all night. None of them end well.
"We keep her contained. No leaving the compound until this is resolved. Liam stays on Lily at all times. I handle Jack personally."
"Handle how?"
"Information first. Find out exactly what he told them, what he's promised." I crack my knuckles—old habit, bad tell. "Then we decide if he's useful or a liability."
"And if he's a liability?"
I meet my brother's eyes. "Then he disappears."
Pietro nods slowly. "The Baganovs won't stop at surveillance. They're testing our response, looking for weaknesses."
"I know."
"If they think Kristen is valuable to us, they'll use her. Threaten her. Take her."
"I know."
I find Vittoria in the foyer, pulling on a jacket like she's actually going somewhere. Her phone is in one hand, keys in the other, and she's got that look on her face. The one that says she's bracing for someone to stop her.
That someone would be me.
"Where are you going?"
She doesn't even look up. "Out."
"Out where?"
"To see friends." She finally meets my eyes, her smile sharp enough to cut glass. "You remember what those are, right? People you spend time with voluntarily? Have conversations that don't involve shipping manifests or surveillance footage?"
This girl. Always trying to make my life harder than it needs to be.
"Which friends?"
"The kind who don't interrogate me before I leave the house." She zips her jacket with more force than necessary. "Relax, Nico. I'm taking Marco. I'm not planning to get kidnapped or start a war with a rival family."
I want to push. I want to ask names, locations, estimated return times. But something stops me.
Vittoria hasn't gone out in months. I mean, for a walk with friends. Not since Riccardo's death. She used to be constantly moving. Lunches, charity events, coffee dates with people whose names I never bothered to learn. Now she haunts the compound like a ghost, hiding behind her screens and her sarcasm.
