I want to ask Renzo how Romano died. Want to know it was slow. Want to know he suffered. Want to know the last thing that man heard was the name of the father he murdered.
But I look at my family. At Gia sobbing in Nico’s arms. At Marco shaking by the door. At Renzo gripping Mama’s rosary so hard his knuckles have gone white.
They don’t need the Don right now. They need their brother.
“He’s dead,” I say. My voice cuts through the room. Brings them back. “Romano is dead. But we need to know if he acted alone or on Benedetti orders.”
Gia pulls back from Nico. Wipes her face. Forces herself to focus.
“The compound is specialized. Expensive. Hard to source without connections.” Her voice steadies. Doctor mode. The only thing holding her together. “If the Benedettis ordered Papa’s death, this isn’t just betrayal.”
“Then it’s war.”
I look at each of them. Renzo, still as a blade. Gia, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Nico, jaw locked, eyes wet. Marco, standing straighter. Fists still clenched.
“They think running to Europe puts them out of reach.” I keep my voice level. “They’re wrong. We find everything. Every name. Every connection. Every safe house, every bank account, every person who ever shook their hand. And when we’re ready, we bring it to their door.”
Renzo nods once. A promise sealed in silence.
“But not tonight.” I hold his gaze. “Tonight we grieve. Tomorrow we plan.”
“And the Benedettis?” Marco’s voice is rough. First time he’s spoken since the revelation.
I look at my youngest brother. The rage in him is raw, untrained. Burning where uncertainty used to live.
“The Benedettis killed our father and tried to kill me. They can run to Milan. They can run to the ends of the fucking earth.” I let the words settle. “Santoros don’t forget. And we don’t forgive.”
“They’ll surface,” Renzo says. “Men like that always do.”
“And when they do.” I look at each of them. “Together.”
“Together,” Nico says. His voice rough.
Marco nods.
Gia wipes the last of her tears. “Together.”
The silence holds. Nobody moves. The beeping of my monitors fills the space between us. Then Renzo puts his hand on Gia’s shoulder. Nico’s chin dips once. Marco unclenches his fists, finger by finger, like he’s making a decision about what to do with his hands from now on.
Family.
“Now I need everyone out.”
They move toward the door. Renzo’s hand on Gia’s shoulder. Nico ruffling Marco’s hair like they’re kids again, earning a shove that’s more affection than annoyance.
Cassia doesn’t move.
“That means you too.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t.”
She’s right.Dio,she’s right.
The door closes behind them. Silence settles.
I look at her. This woman who saved my family while my heart was failing. Who saw my brother when I didn’t. Who handed us what we needed and then sat beside me through the worst night of her life.
Papa was murdered. Romano killed him. And I spent eleven years punishing myself for a lie.
