The air in the war room is thick with failure. My men avoid my eyes, shifting in their seats, the scent of frustration heavy in the space. The mission was simple, the target clear. But they came back empty-handed, one of them bleeding, and the rest looking like they’d been dragged through hell without a plan.
I stand at the head of the table, hands braced against the wood. “You had him cornered.” My voice is low, the kind that makes the smart ones flinch. “He walked away. Explain that to me.”
No one speaks. The silence stretches, punctuated only by the faint hum of the overhead light. My patience is frayed, my temper raw. One wrong word from any of them and I’ll send them back out into the night with no promise they’ll return.
“You’re dismissed,” I say finally, the words clipped. They leave quickly, grateful for the reprieve, though they should know there won’t be one next time.
I need air. I step out into the hall, my mind still grinding over the mistakes, when I see her. Liliana.
She’s by the tall window in the east corridor, her profile framed by the late afternoon light. She’s with Dario, and the two of them are close enough that I feel the twist of something sharp in my chest before I’ve even thought it through. He’s smiling, leaning in slightly, and she signs something that makes him laugh quietly.
The anger from the failed mission spills over. I stride toward them, my boots crunching on gravel, and my voice cuts through the air before I can stop it
“What is this?” The words come out harder than I intend, but I don’t stop. My gaze is on Dario. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
Liliana’s eyes snap to mine, startled, but Dario straightens, his expression guarded. “Step away from my wife,” I snarl, my gaze locked on him, the betrayal sharp even though I know it’s irrational.
Dario's eyes are on me, but he doesn't say anything. I'm one step away from punching him in the face. “I’m asking a question,” I say, my eyes still on him. “Why are you here?”
He lifts his hands slightly, palms out. “We were talking, Giovanni. That’s all.”
Liliana brows pull together. She signs quickly. You’re being rude. What’s wrong with you?
I ignore her signing, my anger blinding, and point at
Dario. “You think you can stand there, looking at her like that?
“Find someone else to talk to.”
Liliana steps forward, her hands slashing through the air. Apologize to him. Now
For what? For him forgetting his place?”
Her eyes blaze, and she signs faster, her movements a storm. You’re lashing out because you’re angry. He’s done nothing wrong.
I shake my head, my voice hard. “Not happening. I don’t owe him anything.”
Her eyes narrow. Apologize to him.
“No.”
The air between us shifts, heavy and charged. She starts signing furiously, the movements so quick I almost can’t follow. I catch enough to know she’s furious, accusing, telling me I’m out of line. Her face is flushed with defiance.
I suddenly want to claim her mouth and kiss her silly.
I step closer, my voice dropping, raw with frustration. “Use your words, Liliana. You’ve been practicing. Say what you feel.”
She freezes, then her fingers still against her thigh. The look she gives me could tear flesh. You want me to speak because you’re not content with who I am. You’re trying to change me.” Her signing is uneven but strong. You're trying to mold me into something more fitting for you.
“That’s not what this is.”
“Yes, it is.”
That’s not true,” I snap, my voice rising. From my periphery, I see Dario slipping away. “I’ve never wanted to change you. I want you safe, damn it, and you keep making that harder.”
You married me because you felt sorry. That's true, isn't it? And now, you're not satisfied. You want to change me into another version more appropriate for you.
The accusation hits harder than I expect, because it's not true. I married her because I love her, dammit.
