He doesn’t move. Doesn’t seek shelter. Just stands there in the rain, his eyes fixed on the window. Sofia brings me dinner, but I don’t eat it. Adora comes to check on me, but I barely acknowledge her.
The evening drags on. The sky darkens. The rain clouds don’t leave us.
And neither does Cristiano.
Night falls,and I can barely see Cristiano through the darkness and the rain, but I know he’s there.
Giving up on the idea of sleep, I head downstairs to make myself some coffee. The kitchen light is off but the living room glows blue-white, and the sound of a television is murmuring. I follow it and stop in the doorway.
Adora and a man who must be Don Vincenzo are on the sofa together. He’s a lean, dangerous-looking man, sitting forward, elbows on his knees, his expression grim. She has her hand on his arm, and her expression is tight with worry.
On the screen before them, a reporter is standing in front of a building consumed entirely by fire. Flames pour from every window, smoke billowing black against the night sky. Emergency vehicles are everywhere. The ticker at the bottom of the screen readsBREAKING: FIRE AT DIAMOND GRAND CASINO—ARSON SUSPECTED.
Adora sees me first, and she immediately reaches for the remote. “Mina. I’m sorry. You don’t need to see this.”
I put my hand out before she can change the channel. “Why can’t I see this?”
Adora and Vincenzo exchange a look.
“It’s Cristiano’s,” Adora says. “The Diamond Grand is one of his.”
I stare at the burning building with new, horrified eyes.
“What happened?” I cry.
“The Sokolis.” Vincenzo’s voice is flat. He hasn’t looked away from the screen. “There’s no doubt about it.”
The name means nothing to me. “I don’t understand.”
Adora puts her hand on my shoulder, and says soothingly, “It doesn’t matter. You need to focus on Leon. He’s what matters now.”
I hear her unsaid words. It’s nothing to do with me because I’ve made my choice clear. A normal life. No Cristiano. No danger and secrets and blood.
The reporter is saying something about structural damage and flames threatening neighboring buildings. I stare at the flames on the television, and I can’t make myself close my eyes as though it’s not happening.
I have a terrible feeling this is happening because of me.
I turn to Vincenzo. “Tell me, please.”
Vincenzo stands, pushing a hand through his hair. His jaw is tight with anger. “The Lucanias, the men who attacked Cristiano? Rafiel Lucania is a friend of mine. He and his father Don Gabriel are in prison, and in their absence the Sokoli crime family have been eating through their territory. Silas Cross, a man the Lucanias trust, has been trying to hold the line. A month or so ago, he came to Cristiano for help. He laid out a plan that would benefit both of them. Together, Montoni and Lucania soldiers, led by Cristiano and Silas Cross, would hit key Sokoli locations and weapons stores. A surprise, preemptive attack that would stop the Sokolis from butchering everyone loyal to the Lucanias.” His tone becomes bitter. “Cristiano gave his word and pledged men to help. They were going to push the Sokolis back together and keep both Lucania and Montoni territory safe, but Cristiano didn’t show up.”
“Why not?”
Adora and Vincenzo exchange a look, and realization washes over me.
“Because he had surgery?” I exclaim.
Neither of them answer. Neither of them needs to.
The fire fills the screen, orange and merciless.
When Cristiano agreed to the surgery, he must have known what he was walking away from. He gave his word to the Lucanias, and he knew his territory was under threat. And he chose Leon anyway.
I press my hand against the doorframe, needing something solid.
Why didn’t Cristiano tell me what was at stake for him?
But I know why. He was choosing Leon. He was putting his son first, even though I lied to him and put colored contacts in Leon’s eyes so his father would never guess his identity. Cristiano never explained what he was sacrificing for our son, because he was protecting me from a world that I’ve been too scared to face.
