He doesn't ask why or push for details about what happened between Giulia and me today. He just nods and changes the subject to business. And I'm grateful for it.
The next week is a blur of violence and work. The Benedetti family makes a move on our territory in Sunset Park, and I handle it with a brutality that makes even our own soldiers nervous. Two of their guys end up in the hospital. One of them might not walk again. I don't feel bad about it. A restaurant owner decides he doesn't want to pay protection anymore and thinks he can switch allegiance to the Colombo family. I pay him a visit at closing time and explain—very clearly—why that would be a mistake. He pays up, with interest.
A shipment goes missing at the docks, and I track down the crew responsible within forty-eight hours. They're stealing from us, selling our product on the side, pocketing the profits. I make an example of the ringleader to ensure no one else will be stupid enough to try the same thing.
And Romeo watches all of this with increasing concern.
"You're going to get yourself killed," he says after I come back from the docks with blood on my knuckles and a split lip from where one of the thieves got a lucky hit in. "You're taking too many risks. Being too aggressive."
"I'm doing my job."
"You're doing more than your job. You're looking for a fight."
"So what if I am?" I wash the blood off my hands in the bathroom sink, watching the water run pink. "The family needs to project strength right now. You said it yourself—peopleare questioning Dante's authority because of my marriage. I'm making sure they remember why it's a bad idea to question us. I can handle myself."
"That's not the point." He leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed. "The point is that you're acting like a man with a death wish. And I need to know if that's what this is."
I dry my hands and turn to face him. "I'm not suicidal, Romeo."
"Then what are you?"
"I'm fine," I snap. "Just doing what needs to be done."
He doesn't believe me. I can see it in his eyes. But he doesn't push. "Dante wants to see you tomorrow morning," he says finally. "Nine sharp. Don't be late."
"I won't."
He leaves, and I'm alone with my reflection in the mirror. I look like shit. There are dark circles under my eyes from too many sleepless nights, and a bruise is forming on my jaw. Cuts on my knuckles that are going to scar.
I look like a man who's falling apart.
And I am. I don't go home that night. Or the next night. Or the night after that. I sleep at the office, telling myself it's because I'm too busy to make the drive back to Brooklyn. But the truth is, I can't face her.
I can't face the hurt in her eyes or the way she looks at me like I'm breaking her heart. I can't face the knowledge that I'm the one doing it.
On the fourth night, my phone rings at eleven in the evening. Giulia's name flashes on the screen, and my first instinct is to ignore it, let it go to voicemail, and deal with whatever she wants in the morning. But something stops me.
Maybe it's the lateness of the hour, or the fact that she never calls me. Whatever the reason, I answer. "What."
"Luca." Her voice sounds all wrong—shaky and scared, threaded with pain. "I need you to come home."
Every muscle in my body goes tense. "What's wrong?"
"I'm—I'm bleeding. And cramping. And I don't know what to do. I called the doctor's emergency line, but they said I should go to the hospital and I don't—I can't?—"
I'm already moving, grabbing my keys and heading for the door. "I'm on my way. Don't move. Don't do anything. I'll be there in twenty minutes."
"Luca, I'm scared?—"
"I know. I'm coming. Just hold on."
I hang up and run.
The drive from the Ciresa house to mine has never felt longer. Every red light is an eternity, and every slow driver is an obstacle I want to ram off the road. Something's wrong with the baby. The thought makes my chest constrict with a fear so intense it's almost paralyzing.
I can't lose this child, the tiny person whose heartbeat I heard just a week ago. I can't lose her.
The realization hits me like a freight train. Despite everything, I can't lose Giulia. I need her to be okay. I need her to be safe. The alternative is unthinkable.
