“Scarlett. Listen to me carefully because I’m only going to say this once.” Her grip tightens. “In this world, you protect your own. Full stop. Those people who might die because of the tussle for the ledger? They’re not your family. I’m sorry to sound this selfish, but it’s the truth. They’re not your responsibility. They made their choices when they joined up with men like their bosses. You didn’t put them in danger. They put themselves there.”
“But I’d be the one who?—”
“No. You’d be the one who chose to keep her son safe. That’s all this is. A mother protecting her child.” She squeezes my hands harder. “Do you think any of those families would hesitate foreven a second if they had information that could save their kids? Do you think they’d lose sleep over your death or Luca’s if it meant getting what they wanted?”
I don’t answer because we both know the answer.
“They wouldn’t,” she spells it out. “So you can’t afford to lose sleep over them. Not when Luca’s safety is on the line.”
“There’s something else. “It’s about Viktor,” I add.
“What about him?”
“He makes me uncomfortable. The way he watches me sometimes, like he’s waiting for something. He’s always nearby when Dante and I do the memory sessions, always lurking just out of sight.” I pull my hands back and wrap my arms around myself. “I never told Dante because I thought he’d think I was being paranoid. Or worse, that he’d send me and Luca away if I caused problems between him and his second-in-command.”
Elena’s expression goes hard. “You need to tell him. Tonight. All of it.”
“What if I’m wrong?”
“Then you’re wrong and Dante investigates and finds nothing. But what if you’re right?” She stands up and starts pacing, the way she always does when she’s agitated. “Your gut kept you alive for six years, Scarlett. Don’t start ignoring it now just because you’re scared of being inconvenient.”
“Alright. I will. Thank you.”
We talk for another hour. About the cons of loving men like Dante and Marco.
“You know what Marco told me once?” Elena says, her voice softer now. “He said every man in this business has blood on his hands. The only difference is whether they’re honest about it or not.”
“Does that make it easier? Knowing?”
“Nothing makes it easy. But it makes it real. And real is something you can work with.”
By the time she leaves, I know what I have to do.
That night, after Luca is asleep, I find Dante in his office. He’s surrounded by papers, maps spread across his desk.
“Hey,” I call softly, and he looks up.
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah, but I need to tell you something.”
The seriousness in my voice makes him seat up, pushing the papers aside. “Okay.”
I close the door behind me. Cross the room until I’m standing in front of the desk.
“This morning, when I said I couldn’t remember what Antonio whispered.” I force myself to meet his eyes. “I lied.”
And to my surprise he doesn’t give a reaction. Not even a blink, he just listens.
“Saint Sebastian watches the sinners burn at the old cathedral. That’s what he said. And I know exactly what it means.”
He still doesn’t say anything, and I continue.
I tell him about the PI, and the research I did after I ran. About the Marchetti family funerals and the abandoned cathedral in Brooklyn.
He listens without interrupting. When I finally finish, he leans back in his chair.
“You’ve known this all day.”
