I've spent years walking a tightrope between two powerful families, never fully belonging to either.
The Dantes gave me shelter, but never quite family.
The Bratva share my blood, but they’ve grown foreign to me.
And now Pyotr stands before me, demanding I choose. Demanding I betray the people who've protected me and my son.
"My loyalty," I start, "is to peace. To building bridges, not burning them. That's what we’re supposed to do."
"Pretty words." Pyotr moves toward the door. "But meaningless when bullets start flying."
“Then we need to stop the bullets. It’s our job.”
He pauses, studying my face. “You’re so naïve, little sis.” He opens the door. "Just remember, when everything falls apart, I tried to protect you. Get me that file. It’s the only way to save us all."
The door closes behind him, but his threat remains.
Are things really that bad?
How is it that I’m not aware of it?
I mean, I know there’s tension.
It’s to be expected when a Don dies and everyone waits to see what the new one will do.
But what Pyotr is describing sounds like a powder keg about to go off.
How did it come to this?
I think about the ambush and stolen shipment, and while Pyotr didn’t admit to anything, I have to believe he was behind it. For some reason, he’s aligning with the Bratva instead of staying neutral.
I grab my phone, hovering over Alessandro’s name.
Would he even believe me?
The Dantes must be aware that they have a leak and are looking for it.
Here I am, with knowledge that the traitor they’re looking for is my brother.
Pyotr would have never dared such a thing against Don Lorenzo. Don Alessandro is new, finding his footing, but he’s no pushover.
If I tell Alessandro about Pyotr, I'm signing my brother's death warrant. If I don't…
Enzo could become a target.
I close my eyes, trying to think clearly through the panic clouding my judgment. I’m supposed to keep the peace, but instead, I’m in the position of having to betray one family.
And whichever is betrayed would certainly come after me and Enzo. Pyotr has just put me in a situation in which my death, maybe even Enzo’s death, is a sure thing.
The clock on the wall ticks loudly. Enzo will be done with school in an hour. I need a plan before then.
I think of my go-bag in the closet.
The emergency bag I’ve kept since Enzo was born. Passport, cash, documents.
Everything we'd need to disappear if the world around us collapsed. But God, I never thought I’d really have to use it.
Where would we go if I ran? What place in the world is far enough away from the reach of the Dantes and the Morozovas? Nowhere.
