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Bash shot me a knowing smile and stood up. He walked over to the window, crossing his arms as he stared out at the Miami skyline. His reflection rippled on the glass as though he were a ghost, his face softened by the sunlight streaming through the window.
"I'm thinking we hit 'em where they least expect it," he said finally, his voice barely more than a whisper. "We get Sylvia to help us."
"Sylvia? Who's Sylvia?"
"Isabella's contact," Bash said. "Vito's estranged daughter."
"I didn't know Vito had children other than Alicia."
"She doesn't live here. She probably doesn't want anything to do with her father...well, until now."
My head felt like it was swimming. "Wouldn't that make her heir?"
"Heir? A woman?" he smiled at me. "No, Justice. That makes her a liability. And we're going to exploit it."
"Exploit?" I asked, tightening my grip on his hand. The word hung heavy in the room, sounding all too much like the kind of thing Vito or Pedro would do.
His eyes met mine, dark with resolve. "Yeah. We're going to use her."
"But how? And won't that put her in danger?"
"Maybe," Bash said, his voice softer now. "But we don't really have a choice, do we?"
I took a deep breath, staring at him as I tried to work out what he was planning. It wasn't just about Sylvia anymore; it was about something far larger than us. It was about survival.
"If she is estranged, she might not know anything about Vito's operation," I said.
"I have a feeling that she's not as estranged as we think," I replied. "Obviously I looked her up. She's a pretty average artist living well above her means with a partner who is...I don't know, unemployed?"
I raised my eyebrows.
"I don't know what he does, but I promise you he isn't raking it in."
"So she's on the take," I murmured, my gaze falling to the laptop that now sat closed on the table. "Her father's keeping her quiet with money."
"Seems like it." Bash's eyes glinted, predatory. He acted like he just wanted a tidy little domestic life, but I knew him better than that.
He was excited about this. The prospect of destroying someone.
I exhaled slowly, rubbing my forehead as I thought. It wasn't ideal. Nothing about this was ideal. But when you're in a war, you have to play with the hand you're dealt. I didn't want collateral damage...but I definitely, definitely didn't want Vito De Luca raising our child.
"Alright," I said finally. "We use Sylvia."
Bash’s eyes softened with relief before he turned to look out the window again. He was silent for a moment, his thoughts far away.
"Let's not forget what we're fighting for," he said in a hushed whisper, his back still to me. I knew he was thinking of our innocent Sebastian and the dangerous legacy he had been unwillingly born into. His voice floated back to me, a bare thread of pain woven into it. "Justice, we have to win this for Sebastian."
"We will," I reassured, meeting his gaze in the reflection on the window. "We'll do whatever it takes."
His eyes closed momentarily, a pained expression crossing his features. Bash was no stranger to difficult decisions, but something about this one was taking him to the edge. And I hated seeing him there, teetering on the brink.
After a few heartbeats, he turned back to me, his eyes taking on a new intensity that sent shivers down my spine.
"One more thing," he said.
I raised my eyebrows.
"I think we should move the wedding date."
