"I think Carlo loves me enough to hear me out." I stood, crossing to where he was. "I need you to trust me on this. Please."
He studied me for a long moment. Then, surprisingly, his expression softened slightly. Not much. But enough that I could breathe again.
"You really love him."
Not a question. An observation.
"Yes."
"Even though Carlo will—"
"Yes." I didn't let him finish. "I love him, and I married him, and I need Carlo to understand."
Silvio slowly shook his head. "You're either incredibly brave or insanely stupid."
"Can't it be both?"
Despite everything, he almost smiled. Almost.
"He makes you happy?"
The question caught me off guard. Of all the things I expected Silvio to say, that wasn't it.
"Yes," I admitted. "He does."
"Then I'll stand with you." He moved toward the door, then paused, hand on the knob. Looked back at Quentin. "You break her heart, Vanetti, and assignment or no assignment, I'll kill you myself. Slowly."
"Noted," Quentin said evenly.
"And painfully."
"Getting the picture."
"With a rusty spoon."
"That seems excessive."
"I'm Italian. We're dramatic. And you just married into this family, so buckle up."
"Also noted."
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
Silvio crossed back to me, pulled me into a brief, tight hug. "When you meet Carlo, don't lead with the marriage certificate. Maybe ease into it."
"What do you suggest? Small talk about the weather first?"
"I suggest you have Stone standing nearby with a first aid kit."
"That's comforting."
He kissed my cheeks—traditional goodbye—then looked at all of us. "I'll fly out tonight. Be there for whatever happens next."
"You don't have to—"
"Yes, I do. You're family. Even when you're being an idiot." He nodded to Stone and Serenity before leaving.
The door clicked shut.
