"After they threw me in the van. After they'd already taken me. If I'd been faster, if I'd been smarter?—"
"Stop." I turn to face her fully. "You survived. That's what matters."
"I should have done more."
"You did exactly what you needed to do." I reach for her hand. She lets me take it. "You stayed alive. You activated the tracker. You gave us a way to find you."
"I built those trackers thinking I'd never need mine." She laughs. The sound is bitter. "I thought I was the one who'd be tracking everyone else. Making sure they were safe. Not the other way around."
"You can't control everything."
"I know that." She looks at our joined hands. "But I keep trying anyway. I keep thinking if I'm just smart enough, if I plan enough, if I prepare enough... nothing bad will happen. But it does anyway."
I squeeze her hand. "That's not weakness."
"It feels like weakness."
"It's not."
She's quiet for a long moment. Her thumb traces circles on my palm.
"I was so scared," she whispers. "When they grabbed me. I was terrified."
"I know."
"But I kept thinking... Dmitri will come. He'll find me. He won't stop until he does." She looks up at me. Tears slide down her cheeks. "And you did. You came."
I pull her against my chest. She comes willingly. Buries her face in my shoulder.
"Always," I tell her. "I will always come for you."
Vittoria
The living room feels too bright. Too many eyes watching me.
I sit on the couch with Dmitri beside me. His hand rests on my thigh. Grounding me.
Pietro stands by the fireplace. Nico paces near the window. Lorenzo sits in the armchair across from me. Bruno's wheelchair is positioned near the door.
Mamma wanted to stay. I told her no. Gently. But firmly.
This is family business. Not mother-daughter comfort time.
A mug of chamomile tea warms my hands. I don't drink it. Just hold it. Let the heat seep into my palms.
"Start from the beginning," Pietro says. His voice is calm. Controlled. But I see the tension in his jaw. "When you were taken."
I take a breath. Focus on the facts. Not the fear.
"The man grabbed me. Put a gun to my head. Dragged me toward the exit." My voice sounds steadier than I feel. "Dmitri tried to negotiate. Offered himself instead."
Dmitri's hand tightens on my thigh.
"The man refused. Kept pulling me backward. Through the door. Into the alley."
I pause. Take another breath.
"Someone shot him. The man holding me. He went down immediately. I thought... I thought I could run. But then two other men grabbed me. They were wearing tactical gear. Black. Professional."
