"That's enough, Mr. Nico." His nurse—a man who looked nearly as ancient as my grandfather—wheeled him toward the patio doors. "I'm taking you outside for some fresh air."
The nurse paused, looking back at me with something like pity. "Don't take anything he says too seriously. He's on strong painkillers."
But my grandfather wasn't done. He managed to turn his head, pinning me with those death-dark eyes one more time.
"I mean it about that snake, Vanetti. I'm not joking, girl."
The wheelchair disappeared through the doors, leaving me standing alone in the suddenly too-quiet room.
My hands were shaking. I clasped them together, digging my nails into my palms until the pain cleared my head.
Rat bastard. Snake. Kill him. Curse you all.
Those were the words my dying grandfather used for the man I'd fallen in love with.
The man I'd been sent to murder.
The man I couldn't kill, no matter what it cost me.
A laugh bubbled up—bitter, slightly hysterical. I swallowed it down before it could escape.
This was my family. These were the people I'd sworn loyalty to. The people I'd kill for, die for, who'd raised me and loved me and taught me everything I knew about honor and respect and duty.
And they wanted me to destroy the only person who'd ever made me feel truly seen.
I pressed my fingers to my temples, willing my racing heart to slow.
Hold it together, Julia. You're not done yet. The meeting hasn't even started.
But damn, I was so tired of pretending.
Tired of lying.
Tired of being torn between two impossible choices.
Behind me, I heard footsteps. Someone else arriving for the meeting.
I straightened my spine, smoothed my expression, and turned around.
The mask sliding back into place.
Because this was the game. And I had no choice but to keep playing.
Even if it killed me.
I exhaled slowly, trying to release the tension coiled in my shoulders. Vinny reached me, extending a wine glass. His half-smile looked predatory. Wrong. "Your wine."
"Did you press the grapes yourself or just fly to France?" I took the glass, desperate for something to do with my hands, something to focus on besides the panic clawing at my throat. I sipped. "Well, whatever. You took forever, but it was worth it."
The wine tasted like ashes. Everything tasted like ashes.
"I ran into someone at the bar." Vinny's expression was odd—searching, suspicious. He shook his head slightly, eyebrows raised. "The wine meets your approval?"
I nodded, taking another small sip, studying his face.
Something was off. That look troubled me almost as much as Nonno's venomous outburst. As much as the guards who'd frisked me on the way in like I was a stranger. As much as the tension radiating from every person in this room.
They're all watching me. Waiting for me to slip up.
