The words land like a punch. The room is silent. Even Rafaelle doesn’t interrupt.
"He knew that the mission Gavin was on was a suicide mission. And yet he didn’t stop him. I’ve been biding my timeuntil now, pretending to be a loyal little soldier. But I’ve never forgiven him.”
Santiago's voice is barely above a whisper.
"I never will."
The head of the Vitales studies my brother carefully.
“You’re giving us information that could help us save Mila’s life. What do you want in return?"
That question seems to bring Santiago back to the present.
His shoulders straighten. His answer is immediate.
"Protection. For myself and my siblings. No one lays a finger on us or goes looking for revenge,” his eyes are on Rafaelle as he says those words, “You kill Ignacio and that’s it. And once he’s dead, I take control of his business. I’ll honor the terms of the agreement Ignacio broke. We share a niece and all I want is peace between our two families.”
His gaze locks on Salvatore.
"I want your word."
The Don doesn't answer immediately.
Instead he studies Santiago. Evaluating.
Until finally, "You have it."
Relief floods through me. Santiago closes his eyes briefly. As though a weight has finally been lifted. Then he opens them and all traces of vulnerability vanish.
"We need to move."
The room shifts instantly back into action. The knowledge that time is ticking feels like a boulder on my back.
“You’re the one that was wasting time with your shit show of a sob story,” Rafaelle accuses.
My brother doesn’t rise to the bait.
“Ignacio has eyes everywhere. He probably already knows I'm here."
“Tell us where the fuck they are.”
As soon as we have a location, everyone starts moving. Orders are shouted. Weapons are collected. The study erupts into controlled chaos.
My pulse pounds. Because this is it. We're finally going to get my daughter back.
When I follow them downstairs and try to get into a car, I’m stopped with a brief and powerful, "No."
I glare at Rafaelle.
“I’m going,” I insist.
“Like fuck you are. We have no idea how many men that bastard has protecting him. You’ll only be a liability.”
“I won’t be a liability. I can protect myself,” I grit out.
“With what?!”
I pull out a knife from inside my jacket. One he’s very familiar with.
