"He won't see anyone," Pietro says, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Not the therapists. Not the doctors. Not even Vittoria."
I lean back in my chair, arms crossed. "He saw Lily."
Pietro's head snaps up. "What?"
"She wandered into his wing." I remember the sound of Bruno's laugh. "He was playing with her. Laughing."
"Bruno? Laughing?"
"For about three minutes. Then Kristen came to get Lily, and he turned back into..." I trail off, searching for the right word.
"An asshole?"
"I was going to say ice sculpture, but sure."
Pietro exhales, long and slow. "The physical therapist says he's refusing to do his exercises. Just sits by that window like he's waiting for something."
"Maybe he is."
"Waiting for what? Permission to be miserable forever?" Pietro's jaw tightens. "He should have been Don. He knows he should have been Don. And instead he woke up in a wheelchair while I sat in his chair."
"You didn't ask for it."
"Doesn't matter." Pietro stands, moving to the window. His silhouette blocks the light. "He blames me. He blames himself. He blames God, probably. The only person he doesn't blame is the one who actually pulled the trigger."
I don't respond. There's nothing to say. The man who shot Bruno is already dead. But death doesn't fix what's broken inside my brother's head.
"The Russians," Pietro starts, turning back toward me. "Dmitri wants to meet. He's pushing for?—"
A knock interrupts him. Three sharp raps.
"Come in," Pietro calls.
Liam enters, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His face reveals nothing. The man could witness the apocalypse and still look like he's reviewing quarterly reports.
"Is it done?" I ask before he's fully in the room.
"Signed them easily," Liam says.
I study him for a beat. Easily. Coming from Liam, that word could mean Jack Walker signed after a polite conversation over tea. It could also mean Jack signed while missing a few teeth and reconsidering his life choices.
With Liam, you never really know.
"Define easily," I say.
"He required minimal... persuasion." Liam's expression doesn't flicker. "Once I explained the situation clearly, he became quite cooperative."
Pietro leans against his desk. "Cooperative how?"
"He agreed to sign the divorce papers. Full custody to Ms. Thomas. No asset disputes. No future contact with the childunless Ms. Thomas explicitly permits it." Liam pauses. "He also agreed to relocate. Back to New York. Permanently."
Something loosens in my chest. A knot I didn't realize I'd been carrying.
"And the girlfriend?" I ask.
"She was present during our conversation." Liam's lips twitch—the closest he ever gets to a smile. "I believe she found Mr. Walker's previous claims about his circumstances to be... exaggerated. She left before I did."
Pietro catches my eye. There's a question there, one he won't ask in front of Liam. How far did this go?
