The war changed everything.
Over the next week, Lawless transformed from a city with criminal undertones into an active battlefield. Shootouts in daylight. Bodies found in alleys. Civilians caught in crossfire. The thin veneer of civilization stripped away to reveal the violence underneath.
Rio barely slept. Between Vanetti operations during the day and Avilio's cold silence at night, exhaustion became his constant companion.
His shoulder healed impossibly fast. Cerotto commented on it. Ganzo noticed. Even Nero, during stolen moments between crisis management, questioned how Rio was already combat-ready after a through-and-through bullet wound.
Rio deflected. Made jokes. Changed subjects.
The fragments whispered that his perfect healing was becoming another mystery people couldn't ignore.
---
Five days after the Orco attack, Rio found himself in the Vanetti mansion's strategy room. Maps of Lawless spread across tables. Territory divisions marked in red and blue. Disputed areas highlighted. The geography of war.
Nero stood at the head of the table, coordinating defense. He'd barely left the mansion since the attack. Dark circles under his eyes. Running on coffee and determination.
"The Orcos hit three more operations yesterday," Nero said, pointing at the map. "Two speakeasies, one warehouse. They're trying to strangle our supply lines."
"We hit them back," Ganzo said. "Burned two of their trucks. Killed four soldiers."
"Not enough. They're winning the attrition game." Nero rubbed his eyes. Exhausted. "We need to change tactics. Go after their leadership. Don Orco specifically."
"That's escalation," one of the older soldiers warned.
"We're already escalated. They started this. We finish it." Nero's voice was hard. Rio had watched him transform over the past week—from the conflicted heir who read philosophy to a war commander who made brutal decisions without hesitation.
War changed people.
Rio wondered if it was changing him too.
Or if he was already too changed to notice.
"What about the leak?" Rio asked. "Any progress finding who's feeding them information?"
Silence. Uncomfortable silence.
"We're investigating," Ganzo said carefully.
"Who?"
"Everyone. Anyone with access to operational details." Ganzo's eyes swept the room. "Including new associates."
The implication was clear. Rio and Avilio were suspects too.
"You think we're the leak?" Rio kept his voice neutral. "We took bullets defending your operations. We're the ones who warned you there was a leak at all."
"Which could be misdirection," Frate said from the corner. He'd been silent until now. Watching. Always watching. "New associates appear. War starts. Curious timing."
Nero turned on him. "Rio saved my life. Took a bullet meant for me. That's not the action of a traitor."
"That's the action of someone building trust before betrayal." Frate's voice was calm. Rational. Dangerous. "I'm not accusing. I'm observing. We should consider all possibilities."
"Consider this," Nero said coldly. "Rio and Avilio have proven themselves repeatedly. They're assets. Valuable assets. Unless you have actual evidence—"
"I have patterns. I have timing. I have instinct." Frate met Nero's eyes. "And I have doubts."
The tension in the room was palpable. Rio's fragments assessed the dynamic: Frate is positioning himself. Using the chaos to undermine Nero. This isn't about finding the leak. This is about power.
"Enough," Don Vanetti's voice cut through the argument. He'd been silent, observing. "Frate raises valid concerns. Everyone is under scrutiny until we find the source. That includes new associates. That includes family."
He looked at Frate when he said the last part.
Frate's expression didn't change. But something flickered in his eyes.
"Continue the investigation," the don ordered Ganzo. "No one is above suspicion. But we don't fracture the family with baseless accusations. Evidence first. Then action."
The meeting continued. Strategy discussed. Operations planned. Rio contributed when asked, stayed quiet when not.
But he felt eyes on him. Watching. Weighing. Suspecting.
The mission was already compromised by his relationship with Nero. Now it was under active investigation.
Everything was collapsing faster than anticipated.
---
After the meeting, Nero caught Rio in the corridor.
"Walk with me."
They moved through the mansion. Into the gardens. Far enough from ears and eyes to speak freely.
"Frate's wrong," Nero said without preamble. "About you. About Avilio. I know he is."
"How?"
"Because I know you." Nero stopped walking. Turned to face him. "And I trust you."
The words landed heavy. Because Nero's trust was exactly what Rio had been cultivating. Exactly what the mission required.
And exactly what Rio was betraying.
"You shouldn't," Rio said quietly.
"Why not?"
"Because trust is dangerous. Especially in war."
"It's also necessary." Nero moved closer. Close enough to touch but not touching. Careful. Always careful now. "I haven't been able to see you. Really see you. Not since—"
"I know."
"I miss it. Miss you." Nero's voice dropped. "This war. It's consuming everything. I barely have time to think, let alone—"
"It's fine. The war takes priority."
"Does it?" Nero's eyes searched his face. "Because I keep thinking about that night. About what we started. About what it means."
Rio's chest felt tight. "Nero—"
"I care about you. I said it then. I'm saying it now." Nero's voice was intense. "And I know this is complicated. I know I'm your superior in the organization. I know mixing personal and professional is dangerous. But I can't—" He stopped. Started again. "I can't stop thinking about you. Can't stop wanting—"
Rio kissed him. Quick. Desperate. Silencing the words that made everything harder.
When they pulled apart, Nero smiled. Small. Sad.
"We shouldn't do this here," Nero said. "Anyone could see."
"Let them see."
"You don't mean that."
"Don't I?"
Nero studied him. "What's wrong? You've been different this week. Distant. Even when you're right beside me, you feel far away."
Because I am far away. Because I'm here to destroy you and I'm falling apart trying to reconcile that with caring about you.
"I'm tired," Rio said instead. "The war. The fighting. It's exhausting."
"It is." Nero's hand came up. Cupped Rio's jaw. Gentle. "Come to my rooms tonight. After things quiet down. Just for an hour. Just to—" He paused. "To be together. Away from all this."
Rio should say no. Should maintain distance. Should remember that every moment of connection made the inevitable betrayal worse.
"Okay," he said instead.
"Okay." Nero smiled. Relieved. "Ten o'clock. I'll have the staff leave that corridor clear."
He left. Headed back toward the mansion and the endless crisis management.
Rio stood alone in the garden. Feeling the weight of Frate's suspicion, Avilio's anger, Corteo's grief, and his own self-destruction.
The fragments offered no comfort. Just the certainty that this couldn't last. That every stolen moment with Nero pushed them closer to catastrophe.
Rio went anyway.
Because he was weak. Or strong. Or too broken to tell the difference anymore.
---
That night, ten o'clock exactly, Rio arrived at Nero's quarters.
The corridor was empty. No guards. No servants. Privacy bought with authority.
Nero opened the door before Rio knocked. "You came."
"I said I would."
"I know. But I wasn't sure you'd mean it."
They stood in the doorway. Looking at each other. The distance between them somehow vast despite being inches apart.
"Are we going to talk about what's happening?" Nero asked quietly.
"What's happening?"
"This. Us. Whatever this is that we're both pretending isn't significant." Nero gestured him inside. Closed the door. "I need to know what you're thinking. What you want. Because I'm—" He stopped. "I'm falling for you, Rio. Hard. And I need to know if I'm alone in that."
The honest answer was complicated. Because Rio was falling too. Had already fallen. Was drowning in feelings that compromised everything.
But admitting it made it real. Made it impossible to walk away when the time came.
"You're not alone," Rio said quietly.
Nero exhaled. Relief and fear in equal measure. "Then what do we do? How do we navigate this?"
"Carefully. Secretly. One day at a time."
"That's not a plan."
"It's the only plan we have." Rio moved closer. "You're the heir. I'm an associate. If people find out—"
"They'll use it against us. Against me specifically." Nero understood the dynamics. "My father would see it as weakness. Frate would weaponize it. Ganzo would question my judgment."
"Exactly."
"So we hide it."
"We hide it."
"And when the war's over?"
Rio didn't have an answer. Because when the war was over—if they survived—everything would collapse anyway. The truth would come out. Angelo's revenge would execute. The family would burn.
And Nero would know exactly who Rio really was.
"Let's survive the war first," Rio said. "Then worry about after."
Nero accepted that. Pulled Rio close. Kissed him with urgency and desperation and the knowledge that time was running out.
They made it to the bedroom. Again. Fell into familiar patterns. Connection that was physical and emotional and dangerously real.
After, lying in Nero's bed with the complications temporarily forgotten, Rio stared at the ceiling and tried to remember why he'd come to Lawless in the first place.
Revenge. Angelo's revenge. Justice for the Lagusa family massacre.
But that felt distant now. Abstract. Someone else's mission.
Meanwhile, Nero's breathing beside him felt immediate. Present. Real.
"What are you thinking?" Nero asked softly.
That I'm betraying you. That everything between us is built on lies. That I'm going to destroy you and it's going to destroy me too.
"Nothing important," Rio said.
"Liar." But Nero said it affectionately. "You always think too much."
"Someone has to."
"Not tonight. Tonight we just—" Nero paused. "Exist. Together. Without the war. Without the family. Just us."
If only that were possible.
Rio stayed until two in the morning. Then slipped out. Back through empty corridors. Into Lawless streets. Toward the brewery and the judgment waiting there.
---
Corteo was awake. Of course he was. Neither of them slept much anymore.
"You went back to him," Corteo said. Not a question.
"Yes."
"Rio—"
"I know what you're going to say. I know it's wrong. I know I'm compromising everything." Rio sat heavily. "I know all of it. And I'm doing it anyway."
"Why?"
"Because I care about him. Because for the first time in—" Rio stopped. How could he explain? That across lifetimes of empty existence, this felt like something real? "Because I want to."
"Want isn't enough. Not for this. Not with what's at stake."
"I know."
"Do you?" Corteo's voice broke. "Because I'm watching you choose temporary feelings over permanent consequences. I'm watching you destroy yourself and Avilio's mission and probably all of us. For what? A man you met six weeks ago?"
"It's more complicated than that."
"It's not. It's actually very simple. You're in love with the target. And that means when the mission executes—when we betray this family—you're going to have to choose. Him or us. And I'm terrified of what you'll choose."
"I'll choose the mission."
"Will you?" Corteo met his eyes. "Because right now, you're choosing him. Every time. Every decision. Every risk you take. You took a bullet for him, Rio. You're sleeping with him. You're—"
"I know what I'm doing!"
"You don't! You're careening toward disaster and you can't even see it." Corteo's voice was desperate. "Please. Please listen to me. Step back. Create distance. Before it's too late."
"It's already too late."
"It doesn't have to be. You could—"
"It is." Rio's voice was flat. Final. "I'm in too deep. I know it. You know it. Avilio knows it. And there's no way back. So I'm just—" He gestured helplessly. "Going forward. Until it crashes. Until everyone burns. Including me."
"You're giving up."
"I'm accepting reality."
"Reality is that you're in love with someone you're supposed to betray. That's not acceptance. That's surrender."
Maybe it was. Rio didn't know anymore.
Avilio's door opened. He'd been listening. Of course he had.
"You're pathetic," Avilio said coldly. "Angelo Lagusa died for revenge. I exist for revenge. And you—you're throwing it away for temporary feelings and doomed romance."
"I'm not throwing anything away—"
"You are. Every day. Every choice." Avilio's voice was ice. "When this collapses—and it will—I'm not protecting you. You made your choice. You live with the consequences."
"I understand."
"Do you? Because the consequences include you dying. Nero dying. All of us dying. Because you couldn't keep your feelings in check."
"I know."
"Knowing isn't enough. Knowing and doing nothing is worse than ignorance." Avilio stared at him. "You were supposed to be my friend. My partner. Someone I could trust. Now you're just—" He stopped. "Someone in the way."
The words cut deeper than they should.
Because Avilio was right. Rio had become an obstacle to the mission. A liability. A weakness Angelo couldn't afford.
"Then work around me," Rio said quietly.
"I intend to." Avilio went back to his room. Slammed the door.
Corteo looked at Rio with something like grief. "This is going to end badly."
"I know."
"And you're doing it anyway."
"I don't know how to stop."
"Then god help us all."
---
The next morning brought new crisis. Another Orco attack. Two Vanetti speakeasies burned. Five soldiers dead.
And a message. Left at the scene. Written in blood on the wall:
"The Vanetti family will fall. Every associate. Every soldier. Every family member. None will survive."
War had a new level. This wasn't about territory anymore. This was about extinction.
The family gathered at the mansion. Emergency meeting. Everyone present.
Don Vanetti's face was stone. "They want complete destruction. We give them the same. No mercy. No restraint. The Orco family dies. All of them."
"That's genocide," Frate said quietly.
"That's survival." The don's voice was absolute. "They declared total war. We answer in kind."
Nero looked troubled but didn't argue. Ganzo was already planning. The soldiers accepted it without question.
Rio felt the weight of it. The escalation. The point where crime family dispute became something darker. Something that would destroy Lawless entire.
And he'd helped create this. By infiltrating. By letting Angelo's revenge plot catalyze the chaos.
The fragments whispered: This is what revenge costs. Not just the target. Everyone. The entire ecosystem collapses.
After the meeting, Rio found himself alone with Vanno. The younger man's leg was still healing from the dock attack. He moved with a slight limp but refused to sit out.
"This is bad," Vanno said. "Really bad. I've seen territory disputes. But this? This is different."
"How?"
"This is extermination. Both sides committed now. No backing down. No compromise. One family has to die for the other to survive." Vanno's voice was strained. "I've known some Orco guys. Not friends exactly, but—people. They're not all monsters. Some are just trying to survive. Like us."
"War doesn't care about that."
"It should." Vanno looked at him. "You ever think about what we're doing? Really think about it? We kill people for the family. For territory. For money. At what point does that make us the monsters?"
Rio had no answer. Because Vanno was asking the question Rio avoided. The question that made everything harder.
"I don't know," Rio said honestly.
"Me neither. But I keep thinking—" Vanno stopped. "If I die in this war, what was it for? Territory I never owned? Money I barely saw? A family that's just another organization?"
"You die for the people beside you. For Nero. For the others you trust."
"Is that enough?"
Was it? Rio didn't know. The fragments offered memories of dying for people who didn't remember him. Of sacrifices that meant nothing in the long run.
But they also whispered that sometimes, those sacrifices were all that gave existence meaning.
"Sometimes it has to be," Rio said.
Vanno nodded. Accepted the non-answer. "I'm glad you're here, Rio. You and Avilio. Having people I can trust—it helps. Makes this feel less like dying for nothing."
The words were a knife. Because Vanno trusted him. Completely. And Rio was planning to betray that trust.
Was already betraying it.
"I'm glad I'm here too," Rio said. And meant it. Despite everything.
Vanno smiled. "We're going to survive this. All of us. The family's strong. We'll win."
Rio wanted to believe that. Wanted to believe they could all survive. That somehow this would end without complete destruction.
But the fragments knew better.
Everyone died. In war, in betrayal, in the collapse of everything.
The only question was the order.
And whether Rio would be able to live with himself after.