The car door opened and the world went quite.
Not peaceful quite. The kind of quite before a bomb decides if it's angry enough to blow.
Fog swallowed us whole. Salt. Gasoline. Blood that hadn't been spilled yet but wanted to.
Zia Maria stepped out first. Full main character mode on. Heels clicking on wet concrete like a countdown like a countdown. Shotgun in one hand , rosary in the other. Red lipstick, black viel. She looked like grief. She looked like vengeance.
She was vengeance.
Alessio came next. My hand in his. His grip was iron. Not to hold me back. To hold me with him. Like if he let go , I'd dissolve into the fog and the feds would win.
" Stay behind me," he said. Voice low. Ruined. Like he'd been screaming for hours and I just hadn't heard it.
" No." I stepped up beside him. Gun heavy in my palm. " Per sempre, remember? That means side by side."
His jaw ticked. Once. The only sign the Don was scared. Not of dying. Of me dying.
The pier was empty. One black SUV. Headlights off. A burner phone duct-taped to the hood.
Ringing.
Each ring sawed through my ribs.
Alessio answered. Put it on speaker.
" Don De Luca." The voice was warped. Metal. Inhuman. " You are late , but she isn't."
Ice slid down my spine.
They knew my name. My real one. The one buried under three fake IDs and a dead girl's birth certificate. The one only Alessio knew.
He said it. Right now. On this call.
" Say it again and I burn your entire family tree to the ground," Alessio said. Soft. That was worse than yelling. Yelling meant he was still human. Soft meant the devil was home.
The voice laughed. " Tough talk for a man about to be a widower. Here's a deal, Don . You . Alive. To me. By midnight. Or she rots in federal prison. ADX Florence. Twenty-three hours in a box. No windows. No you."
Midnight was 59 minutes ago.
" You had your chance," Alessio said.
He hung up.
The silence that followed was heavier than the gun in my hand.
" He wants you," I said. The words tasted like ash. " Not the money."
" I know." He turned to me. Really looked at me. Like he was trying to take a photoshoot with his eyes. Like he thought the feds would develop it on a prison wall. " So you run. Now. That was the promise."
Fury. Pure, white-hot , blinding fury. It turned the fear right out of me.
" Fuck your promise." I got in his face. Poked his chest. Right over the stitches. He hissed but didn't move. " You said ' if they take me .' Not ' when I hand myself over the sacrifical lamb.'"
" Principessa– "
" No." My voice broke. I hated it. Hated his for hearing it. " You don't get to die for me. You don't get to be noble. Not after you gave me your name. Not after you called me wife. "
Zia made a sound. Half-sob , half prayer.
Alessio's eyes went black. Not empty. Full. Full of war and grief and something so violent it could only be love.
" I can't lose you," he whispered. Just for me. Just liked a confession. Like it cost him blood to say. " I have buried everyone , Adriana .My brother. My mother. I will not bury you. I can't.
Adriana. My name. He never said it unless he was breaking.
So I broke him first.
I slammed my first into his vest. He caught my wrist. Not to stop me. To hold me.
" You won't," I said. Tears now. Fuck. " Because I'm not going anywhere. Not to prison. Not to safety. I go where you go. Always. Even to hell. You made me promise. Now keep yours."
His breath shuddered out of him. Like I'd pulled a knife from his lung.
Then Zia was between us. She slapped me. Hard. My head snapped.
" Enough," she hissed. But her eyes were wet. " You think you die before him? You shame this family. You shame me."
She grabbed my left hand. Yanked the De Luca signet ring off her thumb. Old gold. Heavy. Engraved with a chest that meant blood , loyalty and sin.
She shoved it on my fingers. Too big. It didn't matter .
" You want to die for my nephew? You do it as his wife. Not his girl. Not his weakness. His strength."
The ring burned. Or maybe that was me.
Alessio started at it. At my hand. At me.
Something in his face shifted. Broke . Reforged.
The boy was gone. The man was gone.
The Don looked at Zia. Nodded once.
Then he looked at the SUV. And smiled.
It was the most terrifying thing I'd ever seen.
" Mine now," he said to the fog. To the traitor in the SUV. To God. " She's mine. You want a war? You have one."
He didn't walk me to the SUV. He let me go.
I walked alone. Hands up. Alessio's gun tucked into the back of my jeans. Zia's ring on my finger.
" I'm Mrs. De Luca," I said. Loud. Clear. My voice didn't shake. My soul did. " You want a trade? Take me."
The SUV door opened.
He stepped out.
Cousin Matteo. Baby-faced. Accountant. The one who sent Zia birthday cards. The one Alessio trusted with the books. With the family.
" You," I breathed. Betrayal was a knife. This was a goddamn sword.
" You were never supposed to be family," Matteo said. No remorse. Just greed. Ugly and plain. " You were a problem. Now you are leverage."
He reached for me.
A gunshot cracked.
Matteo dropped, screaming , clutching his knee.
Not me. I hadn't fired.
Alessio stepped out of the fog. Behind me, De Luca men rose from the water. From shipping containers. From the goddamn shadows. The entire pier was his.
" You think I'd let her walk alone?" Alessio said. He was claim. Dead calm. " You think I didn't know? I have for six months, Matteo. "
Matteo paled. " You– "
" You touch my wife, you die." Alessio walked to him. Slow. Every step a sentence. " You threaten my wife , I erase your bloodline. Zia?"
Zia racked the shotgun. Put it under Matteo's chin. " Told you it was a funeral , Bambino."
Sirens. Distant. Getting closer.
Cops. Feds. Someone called them .
Alessio didn't care. He turned from Matteo like he was trash. Came to me.
He was bleeding. Bullet grazed his vest , tore his shirt. He didn't feel it.
He dropped to one knee. Not proposal. He was just done. Exhausted. Hollowed out and filled with rage.
He picked up a spent casting from the ground. Still warm. Still smoking.
He held it out to me.
" No ring," he said. Voice scraped raw. From smoke. From fear. From love. " Just a bullet with you name carved on it. Say yes, and it's yours. Our war. Our life. Our grave. Say no...." He swallowed. " Say no , and it's mine. I use it on myself before I let them take you."
The sirens were screaming now. Red and blue lit the fog.
Zia was crying. Real tears. For him. For me. For the boy she raised.
I took the casting . It burned my palm. I closed his hand around it. Around mine.
" Yes," I said. No tears left. Just truth. " Yes, you stupid , beautiful bastard. Per sempre."
I kissed him. Tasted blood. Salt. Gunpowder. Him.
He kissed me back like I was air and he'd been drowning.
Then he pulled back. Forehead to mine. His hands framing my face like I was something holy.
" They will take me now," he murmured. No fear. Just fact. " Feds don't care about love stories, principessa."
Blue and red flashed over his face. Over the three marks on my neck. Over the Zia's viel.
I held the bullet casting to my heart.
" I said yes, " I whispered. " The sirens said no."