Silence stretches across the room, heavy and suffocating.
Massimo’s jaw tightens. "You went rogue."
That’s how Drake phrased it too.
I nod. "I went rogue." No point in softening it.
"And then something happened. She was... she. I don’t know. It was all so fast. In one second she was a target. In the next, I was seeing her carrying my child, wearing my ring and using my last name. All of that with no ulterior motive on either side. How the fuck is that even possible? By the time the sun came up, I couldn't go through with any of what I had planned. I let her leave. I spent eight weeks maintaining distance because the operation took priority over whatever was happening in my chest."
I fall silent and my brothers consider me for a long moment.
"And now she's your wife." Rafael's voice is flat, unreadable. "Pregnant with your child."
I inhale deeply, the bitter edge of coffee and the faint musk of leather grounding me as I accept his anger. Rafael doesn't throw things or wield words like blades. He goes still, the kind of absolute stillness that makes the air in the room thicken until breathing takes conscious effort. His eyes do all the work, dark and steady and heavy with a disappointment that presses against my chest like a palm pushing me underwater.
“Tell me how she ended up here,” Rafael asks.
"The short version. She had a problem with her father. He wanted to force her into marrying someone she didn’t want. She left and a friend of Katriana’s called in a favor. When she found out it was me behind the job offer she was going to leave. I have to protect her and our baby and the only way I knew to do that was to tie her to me for good.”
“Fate really wanted to fuck with you.”
That’s Massimo. He’s been quiet but taking in all the details.
“That’s for damn sure. The second her father finds out the timeline of events he’s going to lash out.”
I pause a beat. “And she has no idea that I planned to destroy her father using her as a pawn." I drain the rest of my coffee, wishing it was something stronger. "I need your word. All of you. She can never know how it started between us. That information serves no one and destroys everything. This secret dies in this room."
The silence stretches. I can feel them weighing my sins, calculating whether my deception endangers the Syndicate, deciding if I'm still someone they can trust.
Kon speaks first. "You love her."
It's not a question.
"I'd burn this city to the ground for her."
He nods once, the gesture carrying more weight than a thousand words. "Then your secret is safe,moy brat."
My brother.
Drake scrubs a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. "You should have come to us. We would have found another way to handle Marchetti."
"I know. I saw an opportunity and I took it. I just didn't account for what she'd do to me in the process. I was caught off guard by her beauty. Inside and out."
Drake nods. "I think Rafael and I can understand that.”
There’s a pause. Rafael holds his gaze on something out the window, but I know he’s listening.
“But what's done is done," Drake continues. He meets my eyes, and I see the moment he decides to stand with me despite my failures. "The secret stays here. But Luca, if this blows up in your face?—"
"Then I'll handle the fallout. She's my wife. My responsibility. My problem to solve."
Rafael studies me for a long moment, his dark eyes missing nothing. Finally, he inclines his head. "Enzo Marchetti is a problem that needs solving regardless of your personal entanglements. Tell us what your intel has uncovered."
I move to the wall safe behind my desk, punching in the code and retrieving a thick folder stamped with Enzo's name. The papers inside represent months of work. Surveillance reports. Financial records. Witness statements. A catalogue of horrors that would make most men vomit.
"Enzo Marchetti isn't just a minor crime boss. He's a monster wearing a businessman's suit." I spread the documents across my desk, letting them see the evidence. "Human trafficking. Not just facilitating it. Participating. He keeps a private collection of women at a property outside the city. Rotates them every few months. The ones who survive get sold to overseas buyers through an underground organization known as Society 69. The ones who don't..." I tap a coroner's report. "End up in shallow graves in Wisconsin or buried at sea."
Massimo's face goes pale. "Jesus fucking Christ. They throw them off ships?"
