My first wedding ended in blood. Bullets. Bodies on the floor. Lucrezia screaming. Riccardo dying.
I don't remember most of it. Just flashes. The sound of gunfire. The impact in me. The way the world tilted sideways as I fell.
Then nothing.
Months of nothing.
I woke up to a different world. Riccardo dead. Pietro in charge. My legs useless. My position gone.
Everything I'd worked for. Everything I'd trained for. Everything I'd sacrificed.
Gone.
And now Pietro wants me to try again.
Stand at another altar. Make another promise. Risk another disaster.
This time will be different, I tell myself.This time you'll be in control.
But will I?
Can I protect a wife when I can't even protect myself?
Can I lead a family when I can't walk across a room?
Can I be the Don when everyone thinks I'm too broken to function?
The questions circle like vultures.
I don't have answers.
I only have this. The ceiling. The silence. The weight of expectations I'm not sure I can carry.
Giuseppe trained us all to lead.
But he never trained us for this.
He never trained us to be broken.
CHAPTER FIVE
Antonella
Isit on the edge of the couch, watching my father pace. Back and forth. Back and forth. His footsteps are the only sound in the room. That and the tick of the grandfather clock Mama loved so much.
Three in the morning. The Sartoris left two hours ago. We've been sitting here ever since.
Claudio stands by the window, arms crossed, jaw tight. He hasn't looked at Papa since Lorenzo and Nico walked out the door.
"We could run," Papa says. His voice is thin. Desperate. "I have contacts in Miami. Old friends who might?—"
"Run where?" Claudio's voice cuts through the room like a blade. "With what money? In what car? The Sartoris own half of Chicago. You think they won't find us?"
Papa stops pacing. His shoulders slump.
I've never seen him look so old. So small. The man who promised us everything would be okay after our mother died.
He lied.
