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I’d have loved to have her in that meeting today to have my back and challenge Tomas’s bullshit with no care in the world. But her action in the coup still makes the dissenting capos twitchy, so Enzo is keeping her in a non-active role.

Izzy hates being sidelined, but Enzo assuming the throne suddenly has already rocked the Benedetti world too much, and if we don’t keep the capos happy now, the whole mafia structure will come crashing down.

She’s sneering as she leans against the doorframe. “So it went well.”

“It didn’t.”

I brief her, and she listens without interrupting. When I finish, she studies me.

“Make your doctor untouchable.”

The words hit my chest like a bomb. I stare at her. “Explain.”

“A target is a target until she becomes something else.” She crosses her arms. “Make her your fidanzata. Turn her into the woman Marco Santori will spend his future with. Nobody touches the head of security’s woman, whether it’s the Volkovs, Tomas, or anyone else. Not if they want to keep their hands attached to their bodies. That’s what Enzo did by marrying Sophia.”

The idea hits me with a hard clarity. She’s right. An engagement changes the board and forces the capos to choose between challenging me directly or falling in line.

For that plan to work, though, I’d need Enzo’s approval.

“I’ve got to go.” I jump to my feet, rushing past a chuckling Izzy to seek out Enzo.

I find him in his study, his desk lamp casting long shadows across the documents he’s engrossed in. Sophia’s curled in the armchair behind him, reading a book.

I give him no preamble because Enzo doesn’t like preamble.

“I want to propose a fake engagement to the doctor.”

He sets down his pen and surveys me. Sophia’s book lowers an inch.

“You’re asking me or telling me?”

“Asking. Izzy suggested the tactic. It renders Lucia untouchable, neutralizes Tomas’s argument that she’s a liability, and gives us cover to investigate Bruno Caruso through her brother’s case files.”

Enzo silently weighs the strategy against the risk. Then he glances at Sophia, and an agreement that I’m not privy to passes between them.

“Do it.” He picks his pen back up. “But Marco, if this blows up, it’s on you. And if you hurt that woman, Sophia will deal with you before I ever get the chance.”

Sophia smiles from behind her book and doesn’t deny it.

Now I have to talk to Lucia. Bringing her over and snapping the Benedetti tag on her like a brand should work in theory, but it also binds her to a world she didn’t ask for. She’ll probably say no to that world. I’ll lead with the case files. If protection won’t sway her, the chance to hunt her brother’s killers will. The only thing more dangerous than offering her a fake, life-saving future would be admitting I want it to be real.

Calling ahead would give her time to build an argument before I reach her building. She’s the kind of woman who can dismantle a man with logic and a raised eyebrow. If I’m to convince her, I’ve got to meet her in person, but I still need to give her some sort of warning.

I pull out my phone and shoot her a text.

Pack a bag now. I’m getting you out of there before the Volkovs decide to break down your door. Be ready when I get there.

The clock reads eleven forty-seven at night when I pull up outside her apartment. Rain slides down the windshield in steady lines, blurring the city into streaks of red and white. I usually drive myself when I need to think because the rhythm and control let me focus.

Tonight, even that doesn’t help. Tomas’s voice keeps replaying in my head. He’s right that Lucia is a complication. Ever since a 5’3 ER doctor with sharp green eyes told me to let her finish stitching and to get out of her trauma bay, my focus has been shot.

The engagement should be a purely strategic act meant to shield her. It should have nothing to do with the fact that my body stirs whenever I’m within a few feet of her.

Just like it’s doing now as my knuckles rap on her door. She answers before I can knock a second time.

Over her shoulder, my eyes catch the mid-size, practical suitcase sitting on her bed. Her laptop bag is by the door, and a bundle wrapped in a t-shirt sits on top of the pile, a corner of a wooden frame peeking out.

That must be something important to her.