I hold his gaze. "Yes. I agree willingly."
It's not entirely a lie. I chose this. I volunteered before anyone could suggest Gianna.
But willing? That's a stretch.
Lorenzo studies me for another long moment. Then he nods, almost to himself.
"She'll do."
The words should sting.She'll do.Like I'm a piece of furniture.
Nico steps forward. "There are details to discuss. The timeline. The ceremony. Living arrangements."
"Of course." Papa's voice is too eager. Too relieved. "Whatever you need. We're prepared to?—"
"Not with you." Nico's cold gaze cuts him off. "With her."
Papa blinks. "I'm her father. I should be?—"
"You're the reason we're here." Nico doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't need to. "You gambled away your family's future.You put your daughters on the table like chips. You don't get to pretend you have authority in this room."
The words land like blows.
Papa's face goes white. Then red. His mouth opens, closes.
He has nothing to say.
Because Nico is right.
Nico turns to face me directly.
"You're going to marry our brother," he says. "Bruno Sartori."
Bruno.
The name echoes in my mind. I've seen him in photographs. Years ago, before Mama died. Before Papa pulled us out of every social event, every gala, every gathering where families like ours mingled with families like theirs.
I remember a tall man with dark hair. Sharp features. The kind of presence that commanded attention even in a still image.
But that was years ago. Before everything changed.
"Bruno," I repeat. My voice stays steady. "I see."
Nico watches me. Waiting for something. A reaction, maybe. Questions.
I give him neither.
Papa shifts beside the window. His hands twist together.
"How is Bruno?" he asks. His voice is too casual. Forced. "We heard about... the tragedy. Losing your Don. Terrible business."
I remember that night. Papa and Claudio in the study, voices low. I'd been passing by, couldn't sleep. Papa had said something about the Sartoris. About their Don being killed. About chaos in their ranks.
That was all I knew. All anyone outside their circle seemed to know.
Lorenzo's expression doesn't change. "He's fine."
Two words. Flat. Final.
