Serenity stood, offering her hand with a warm smile. "Pleasure to meet you."
Silvio stared at her outstretched hand like it might bite him. "Yeah. I don't think so." He kept his hands at his sides. "No offense, but I don't need anyone poking around in my head."
"I only see what an object or person wants me to see," Serenity said gently, not lowering her hand. "And only when there's something important."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?" A cold smile. "Pass."
The tension in the room ratcheted up several notches.
I stepped in. "Silvio—"
"Jules, I'm here as a professional courtesy. To you and to Carlo." His gaze never left Serenity. "But I'm not playing parlor games with fortune tellers. We clear?"
"Please, sit." Quentin gestured to the chairs arranged in front of his desk. Casual. Non-threatening. Like we weren't about to potentially give my cousin a heart attack.
Silvio sat. But his posture stayed alert.
I took the seat next to him. Quentin stayed behind his desk—smart, keeping physical distance to seem less threatening.
"So." Silvio looked between us. "It’s true? You’re married?"
"Yes. Yesterday. At the courthouse."
"You and Vanetti."
"That would be the 'us' I mentioned on the phone."
His jaw tightened. "Jules, what the hell did you do?"
"I married the man I love." I held up my left hand, showing the rings we'd just bought that morning. "I know it seems sudden. I know it seems crazy. But after everything—the attacks, nearly dying—we realized life's too short. We didn't want to wait."
Silvio stared at the rings on my finger like they personally offended him. Then at Quentin. Then back at me. Something dark flickered in his eyes. "Jules, you married the man Carlo sentyou to—look into. The man I'm supposed to—" He cut himself off, glancing at Stone and Serenity.
"They know," I said quietly. "They know everything. The assignment, the surveillance, all of it."
Silvio's face darkened. "Then you know how this looks."
"I know exactly how it looks. But Quentin didn't kill my father. I've spent weeks looking into it. I'm certain."
"Certain enough to legally bind yourself to him?"
The question was a knife.
"Yes."
He stood abruptly, pacing to the window. Stared out at the city.
The silence stretched. Uncomfortable. Tense.
Finally: "It's done? Legally done?"
"Yes. We have the marriage certificate to prove it."
"And you're flying to New York to meet with Carlo.” He turned, and his expression was almost panicked. "Why? Jules, there’s no way in hell he's happy about this."
"I know. That's why we're going in person. To explain. To ask for his support in planning a real wedding—a proper one, with both families."
"A real wedding." Silvio's laugh was harsh. "You think Carlo's going to throw you a party after you did this behind his back?"
