I meet his eyes. "Mine."
"I've watched you lose focus for months. Watched you get sloppy. I hoped it would pass. Instead, you brought herhome. And now the Bratva knows exactly where to find your weakness." He sets down his cup. "So I'll ask you directly—what are you going to do about it?"
The real question. The one that matters.
"Keep her."
"Even if it costs you everything?"
"Yes."
He studies me for a long moment. "You kidnapped a civilian and brought her into this life. Do you understand what you've done? The Bratva know about her now. They sent that soldier to your penthouse as a message. They're telling you they can reach her anytime they want."
"They won't get the chance."
"How?" He leans forward. "You can't watch her twenty-four hours a day. You can't lock her in your penthouse forever. And the moment you're distracted, the moment you're on a job or handling business, they'll take her. They'll use her to hurt you, to leverage you, to destroy everything you've built."
"Then I make her untouchable."
"There's no such thing as untouchable. Not in this life." His voice drops lower. "You made her a liability the moment you brought her into this world. Again, I ask you what are you going to do about it?"
I know what he's suggesting. I can see it in his eyes. End it. Clean and permanent. Make the problem disappear the way I make all problems disappear.
"No."
"Luca, listen to me."
"I'm not ending it. I'm not letting her go. I'm not making her disappear." I don't look away. "She's mine and I'm keeping her. Whatever that costs."
Don Marco's expression doesn't change, but I see the calculation happening behind his eyes. He's weighing options,assessing risks, deciding if I'm still useful or if I've become a problem that needs solving.
"Then protect her properly," he says finally. "Or end it. Those are your only options."
"I can't end it."
"Then you've already lost, nephew." He picks up his espresso again. "A man who can be controlled through his woman is a man who's no longer dangerous. You've given them the knife and shown them exactly where to put it."
He's right. I know he's right. But it doesn't change anything.
"So marry her," Don Marco says. "Like we discussed. Make it official."
"I'm making the arrangements."
"Good." He picks up his espresso again. "Do it fast. Before the Bratva decides she's an easier target than you are. Once she's a Santoro, touching her means war with the entire Outfit. It changes the equation."
"And the spousal privilege."
"Exactly. The cops can't make her testify against you. It protects you both." He pauses. "But Luca, you need to understand—marrying her doesn't eliminate the danger. It just raises the stakes for anyone who comes after her."
"And the war?"
"Handle it. That's what I pay you for." He opens his newspaper again, signaling the meeting is over. "But fix this situation with the girl first. I need you sharp, not distracted by protecting your weakness. Make her your strength instead."
"Yes, Don Marco."
"Luca."
I stop at the door.
