“I’ll eat when Teresa brings it,” I say.
He nods once. Then reaches for the door.
“Alessandro.”
He stops. I don’t know why I said his name. Perhaps because leaving him with the last word feels dangerous. Perhaps because I need one clean cut. Perhaps because some stupid part of me wants him facing me when I say it.
“When Dante walks into this house,” I say, “do not ask me to be civilized.”
His expression is unreadable. “I won’t.”
“And don’t ask me to forgive what proximity costs.”
“No.”
“And don’t mistake me staying alive for me being handled.”
A pause. Then, very quietly, “Never.”
He leaves. This time, the door closes without locking.
I stand in the room after he’s gone. The house continues around me. Men are probably signing papers. Cars are probably leaving. Silver is probably being cleared away from rooms where decisions were made with clean hands and filthy histories.
Four days. Dante is coming back in four days.
The man who killed my father will walk through these halls. Breathe this air. Sleep under this roof. Perhaps pass the nursery that does not exist yet, or the garden where I once counted exits before my body became one more locked room.
I press both hands to my stomach. The twins shift again.
My revenge has been a straight line for months. Find proof. Build leverage. Force consequence. Now the line has bent around two heartbeats.
Dante’s return is pulling everything toward collision.
Chapter 28
Son Arrives
POV:Alessandro
Dante arrives at four, exactly. Not because he has learned discipline. Because Marco controls the driver. That distinction matters.
The car comes through the east gate with two escorts behind it and one ahead. Black sedan. Correct route. Correct speed. No deviation from the arrival protocol I set the previous night.
Compliance. Not reform. Compliance is external. Reform alters pattern. Dante has never altered the pattern. He only changes its presentation.
I stand at the top of the front steps. Marco waits to my right. Luca to my left. Salvatore behind us by three paces where he can see the house, the drive, and me. Useful position.
Giulio stands farther down near the second column, present because council victory requires witnesses. He thinks his presence applies pressure. It does, but not in the way he intends.
The car stops. The engine turns off. No one moves for a second.
Then the rear door opens.
Dante steps out, and I know before he so much as straightens.
He’s not reformed.
The mistake is clear immediately. Not in his clothing; the clothing is correct. Dark suit. White shirt. Polished shoes. Hair trimmed. Face clean-shaven. A costume assembled by men who believe surface-level things can be submitted as evidence.
