“Alana, that’s enough!”
She whirled to face me, eyes wild. “Tell me what’s going on, Romolo. Now!”
I think she already knew.
Her palm flew to her mouth, muffling a strangled gasp. The puzzle pieces fell into place, each realization sharpening her expression into one of horror. “That camera. There’ve been others, haven’t there?”
I nodded, my throat dry.
“This was planned,” she whispered.
I couldn’t answer.
Alana crumpled to her knees, her body shaking as she clawed at her cheeks. “No. No, no, no. Romolo, please. You can’t do this to me.”
“If your husband plays by our rules,” I forced out, “the pictures and videos will never see the light of day.”
She shook her head, her tears flinging into the air. “You don’t understand! After the last time— He told me he wouldn’t protect me again. If he finds out, I’ll lose everything.”
Mom believed the police chief wouldn’t want these pictures to surface, that he’d cave to our demands to protect himself. But looking at Alana trembling and broken on the floor, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
“If they come out, it won’t just be your reputation that’s damaged,” I said, my voice low. “It’ll hurt his too.”
She wasn’t listening. Her sobs grew louder as they spilled out of her. “This will ruin everything! Romolo, please, I’m begging you. You can’t do this to me.”
“It’s not up to me.” The edge of frustration in my tone masked the guilt twisting in my gut. “This wasn’t my plan.”
She lifted her tear-streaked face, her eyes pleading. “There has to be something I can do. Please, anything. I’ll do anything.”
“It’s not me you need to talk to. It’s my mom.”
The way she wept cut deep into my conscience. But I was doing this for the family. Mom and Dad said we all have to make sacrifices for the family. It's how my brothers and I were raised.
“Look,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “You’ll be able to talk to her tomorrow. Let me take you home. You’ve been drinking. You shouldn’t be driving like this.”
I tried to help her to her feet, but while she'd welcomed my touch earlier, now she tore her hand out of my grip like she’d been burned. I grabbed my keys and a jacket before opening the door. She stumbled out into the rain, which was heavier now, and slid into the passenger seat of my car.
The squeaking of the windshield wipers and her weeping bled into the air. Her head was bowed, her hands trembling in her lap.
Guilt still churned inside me. I knew my family’s world was ruthless, full of difficult choices and cold calculations. But seeing the fallout up close like this? It was different.
Was it supposed to feel this awful?
Or was I just soft?
I tightened my grip on the wheel. Next week, I was expected to prove myself. To put a bullet in a traitor’s skull and solidify my place in the family. That act would set me on the path to being Cosimo’s underboss when he took over as don.
I wasn’t a kid anymore. I had to be willing to do whatever it took.
“Romolo,” she whispered, her voice raw. “My kids need me. Their names are Grant and Tessa. If this comes out, my husband will make sure I never see them again. He has the power to do that, you know. He’s got all the judges wrapped around his little finger.”
My knuckles turned white against the wheel.
“You have to talk to my mother,” I forced out. “There’s nothing I can do to help you right now.”
Her head shook violently, her movements erratic and aggressive. She was falling apart right before my eyes.
I pressed harder on the gas. Anything to make this drive end faster.
