My partner was waiting behind his desk, looking every inch the kingmaker. Perfectly tailored suit. Silver cufflinks. That calculating expression that saw through every lie and weakness.
Stefan's hand tightened on mine.
"Stefan Romano," Sandro said. "Have a seat."
We sat in the chairs facing his desk. I kept hold of Stefan's hand. A clear message: we were a unit now. Whatever Sandro said to Stefan, he was saying to both of us.
Sandro studied Stefan in silence for a long moment. I could see him cataloging everything—Stefan's posture, his clothes (the ones I'd bought him), the way he held himself. Looking for threats. For weaknesses. For reasons this was a terrible idea.
"Matteo tells me you're staying voluntarily," Sandro said finally.
"Yes." Stefan's voice was steady despite the fear I could feel in his grip.
"Why?"
"Because I have nowhere else to go. Because my father's a traitor who sent me here to die. Because leaving means walking into a death sentence from families who'll target me to get to him." Stefan held Sandro's gaze. "And because I choose this. I choose Matteo. Even though it's fucked up and complicated and probably stupid."
Sandro's expression didn't change. "You understand what choosing Matteo means? What it means to align yourself with us instead of your family?"
"I understand I'm choosing my family's enemies. That Giuseppe will consider me a traitor. That the other Romanos will probably disown me if they haven't already." Stefan's voice was firm. "I understand all of that. And I'm choosing to stay anyway."
"And if Giuseppe comes for you? If he tries to use you against us?"
"Then I'll deal with it." Stefan's jaw tightened. "I'm not my father. I'm not a rat. Whatever information I have about the Romano family, I'm not trading it to save myself. I just want to be left alone to figure out who I am when I'm not being Giuseppe's pretty trophy."
Sandro was quiet for another long moment. Then he looked at me.
"He can stay," he said. "But the rules we discussed apply. He's your responsibility. Any problems, you handle them."
"Understood."
Sandro's gaze shifted back to Stefan. "You'll be a target. Giuseppe's FBI cooperation makes you valuable to people who want information. The other families may see you as leverage. You need to understand that staying here doesn't mean safety. It means different dangers."
"I understand," Stefan said.
"And you need to understand that Matteo's protection only extends so far. If you betray us—if you're working with your father, if you're feeding information to anyone—there won't be a second chance. Are we clear?"
"I'm not working with anyone." Stefan's voice was hard. "I'm not my father. I don't betray people."
Something shifted in Sandro's expression. Not quite approval, but close.
"Then welcome to Inferno," he said. "Try not to make me regret this."
We left his office. Stefan was shaking slightly.
"That was terrifying," he said once we were in the hallway.
"You did well. Sandro respects honesty. You gave him that."
"He doesn't trust me."
"He doesn't trust anyone. It's nothing personal." I pulled Stefan close. "But he accepted you staying. That's enough for now."
We went back upstairs. Stefan collapsed on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
"This is real," he said. "I'm really doing this. Staying with my family's enemies. Choosing you over everything I've known."
"You can still change your mind."
