“I’m going inside.”
Leone starts to protest. “Boss, you can’t?—”
I cut him off with a look.
Before Leone can say anything else, I pull out my phone and open the group line.
It rings twice before the first voice comes through.
“Something wrong, Neri?” Matteo asks.
Riccardo joins a second later. Then Giovanni. Then Luca.
No one wastes time asking why I pulled them all in at once. In our world, a call like this means something has already gone very wrong.
“Pavlov has them,” I say. “My woman and my son.”
Silence drops across the line. None of my fellow Dons knew I had a family. I can feel them taking it in, realizing what this means.
The last time the five of us stood on the edge of something like this was when the Borough War almost tore the city apart. Back then our families were fighting each other.
Now we’re the ones holding the line.
“Where?” Luca asks.
“Warehouse seventeen. South docks.”
I hear someone exhale sharply. Giovanni, I think.
“He contacted you himself?” Riccardo asks.
“Yes.”
“And he wants you alone,” Matteo says, already understanding the play.
For a moment I can almost feel them thinking through the same thing I am: how fragile the peace we built actually is. One wrong move tonight and the Pavlovs won’t just take my family. They’ll shatter the balance we fought for.
“This isn’t just my problem,” I say. “This is an attack on a Don’s family.”
Giovanni speaks first. His voice has lost its usual dry humor.
“Then it’s an attack on all of us.”
Matteo’s voice follows, colder. “Pavlov just declared war.”
“Yes,” I say. “Your forces will be in charge of the perimeter. Each one of you takes a side.”
“And you?” Luca asks.
“I go in.”
“No,” Giovanni says immediately. “That’s suicide.”
“It’s my choice,” I growl. “And you will either respect it or drop out of this.” I drag in a breath. “I won’t blame you if you don’t want to fight for my family. It’s my business.”
“It’s not,” Matteo says. “It’s everyone’s.”
“Agreed,” Luca says.
