Marco ends his call. Something about his expression makes my stomach drop before he says a word.
"Boss." He sets the phone down carefully. "The Hamptons house. Twenty minutes ago. Six men came over the east wall. Dante got Sofia out through the tunnel. She's safe. Two of ours are down."
The kitchen goes very quiet.
Vito doesn't look at Marco. He doesn't look at the photos. He looks at me.
"Gianna," he says, and this time his voice isn't calm anymore. "What. Did you tell him."
My mouth is dry. I'm trying to remember. I'm trying to think back through every word I've said in that bed, and the one that keeps rising to the surface isSofia's been moved again. She hates it out there.
"Oh god," I whisper.
"Say it."
"I didn't—I didn't tell him where. I just said she'd been moved. I said she hated the Hamptons. I didn't think?—"
I can't finish. There's nothing to finish.I didn't thinkis the whole sentence, and we all know it.
Vito closes his eyes. For a second I think he might hit me. I almost wish he would. Instead he exhales, long and slow, and when he opens his eyes again something in them has shut.
"Get out of my sight," he says quietly. "Go to your room. Don't leave it. Don't call anyone. Don't speak to anyone until I tell you you can."
"Vito, please?—"
"Out."
I stand up. My legs barely hold me. As I reach the doorway, Vito speaks again, quieter, almost to himself.
"She's eighteen, Gianna. Sofia is eighteen. If they'd gotten her?—"
He doesn't finish that sentence either.
I don't sleep that night. I spend it in my room pacing, sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at the wall. Trying to understand how a single sentence, spoken half-asleep into the chest of a man I thought I loved, has ended up with six Irishmen coming over a wall in the Hamptons.
The sun comes up. I don't move.
Around noon, there's a knock at my door. I expect Vito. Instead, Rina slips inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
She doesn't say anything at first. Just looks at me with those steady brown eyes that have seen worse than this and survived it.
"He wants to see you," she says finally. "Downstairs. His office."
My stomach drops. "Is he sending me away?"
"Just go, Gianna."
I follow her down the hall, down the stairs, through the estate that suddenly feels twice as big and ten times emptier. When we reach Vito's office, Rina knocks once and pushes the door open.
Vito is behind his desk. Marco stands by the window. Rafa leans against the wall, arms crossed. The three of them look like they've been talking for hours.
"Sit," Vito says.
I sit.
He studies me for a long moment, fingers steepled in front of him. Then he leans back in his chair.
"I've been thinking about what to do with you," he says. His voice is calmer than it was yesterday, but there's still an edge to it. "My first instinct was to ship you somewhere and leave you there until you learned what loyalty means."
