Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven

Genevieve sat quietly at the dining table, wrapped snugly in Matteo’s oversized hoodie. She had pulled the soft fabric tightly around her body, drawing her knees close to her chest to soak in the comforting warmth of the worn garment. The hood was drawn up over her head, casting a shadow over her face and muffling the world around her. Beside her, Conor cradled a glass of vodka, his head resting heavily in his hand as he stared off into the distance. Across from them, in the living room, the others had gathered to hash out the details of what lay ahead. Leo and Alessio were locked in a heated debate about the venue for the apology between Genevieve and Michele. After two grueling hours, they had finally agreed on the date and time—two days from now at six in the evening. But the argument over the location was dragging into its third hour.

“We need strategic spots to hide our men,” Leo said through clenched teeth, frustration thick in his voice.

Alessio rolled his eyes in exasperation. “No. During an apology, you’re only allowed one man waiting in the shadows. One. Not a squad.”

Leo smirked with a hint of sarcasm. “Let me guess—you want to be that one man?”

“I’ll be there as the mediator,” Alessio replied coolly.

Leo shook his head. “Still, I think the docks are best. The hospital’s nearby, and we can station men in buildings, cars, even behind dumpsters.”

Genevieve tugged softly on the hoodie strings, pulling the hood tighter around her head until the dimness felt like a protective cocoon infused with Matteo’s lingering scent.

Beside her, Conor whispered quietly, “Hiding away doesn’t help.”

“What doesn’t?” she asked, her voice muffled but curious.

“Running and hiding.”

“Maybe that’s true for you…” she murmured, her thoughts drifting.

Conor gave a humorless chuckle. “There I was, drowning myself in liquor and whatever other drugs I could find, not leaving the compound—until your husband showed up and literally ripped the sheets off me.”

Genevieve smiled faintly. “Are you telling me you’re going to take my hoodie away?”

“Not me. Alessio will.”

“I’ve got nothing to face until tomorrow. Until then, I’m staying put right here,” she said firmly.

A warm, inviting aroma slipped through the small opening in her hoodie. She loosened the strings just enough to peek at the steaming bowl of soup set before her. Her eyes met Jada’s shy smile from across the table. Genevieve’s gaze dropped back to the soup, and her stomach grumbled in response.

“That smells incredible,” she said, pulling the hood back fully.

“It’s Pho,” Jada explained, settling into the chair opposite her. “I called Dad and told him your stomach was upset and the baby was being fussy. He said your mom had the same problem when she was pregnant with you. Pho was the only thing she could keep down. You need your strength.”

Genevieve let her feet drop to the floor and took a tentative sip. “Mmm, that’s good,” she whispered before taking a bigger spoonful.

“How are you holding up?” Jada asked gently.

Genevieve shrugged. “Dandy.”

Jada gave her a skeptical look. “You look like hell.”

“Feel like it too.”

“Was provoking him really necessary?” Jada’s voice was soft but concerned.

“Yes,” Conor cut in before Genevieve could answer.

Jada glanced at her nervously. “You’re not planning to do that again tomorrow, are you?” She fiddled with her fingers on the table.

Genevieve set down her spoon and faced her sister fully. “It’ll be okay, Jada. Leo’s coming with me.”

“I know, but the Russos aren’t like us. They don’t have century-old codes to protect each other. They’re ruthless, manipulative… dangerous.”

Just then, Louis appeared behind Jada, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. A single tear traced down Jada’s cheek. Louis leaned close, whispering something that drew a shaky smile from her. She squeezed his hand in return.

“I’ll be careful,” Genevieve promised quietly.

Louis nodded firmly. “We’ll make sure of it. We’re coming with you.”

Jada nodded in agreement.

Genevieve straightened, shaking her head. “No, you’re not. That’s not the plan.”

“Neither was you revealing my intentions to Dad,” Conor argued, taking a long swallow of vodka.

“Or getting beaten up,” Jada added, gesturing toward Genevieve’s bruised and swollen cheek.

Louis took the seat beside her wife. “This whole mess with the Russos started with us,” he said, motioning between himself and Jada. “They want our blood. I refuse to let that happen, but they won’t agree to any deal if they think you’re hiding us away for safety. It’s better to face Charlotte head-on.”

Genevieve fought the urge to retreat back into Matteo’s hoodie. Her eyes flicked to the men still bickering in the living room. Raphael stood firmly by Leo’s side, arguing passionately, while Leo refused to yield. Chairs scraped the floor, but Genevieve kept her gaze fixed on them.

“Gen…” Jada’s soft voice touched her arm.

She looked up to find her sister sitting in Conor’s chair. Both he and Louis had disappeared.

Jada took her hand gently. “Talk to me.”

Genevieve sighed, shaking her head. “It won’t help.”

“Yes, it will. If Matteo were here, what would you want to say to him?”

“I wouldn’t need to say anything if he were here,” she answered honestly. Jada squeezed her hand again.

Genevieve exhaled slowly. “It’s just… a lot, Jade.” Jada nodded, understanding. “Five months ago, I was an accountant, just starting my own firm, single, ready to move forward. Now…” She took a breath and looked around the room. “I’m pregnant. My mob boss husband is in prison to keep me safe from arrest. I killed a man, and now I’m watching a group of guys argue over how and where I should kill another. I’ve been in a dozen meetings this week, with more scheduled. I provoked a mafia leader until he hit me. I put my baby in danger, Jada… and I’m still putting my baby in danger. How did I end up here? What am I thinking?”

Jada rubbed her hand comfortingly and glanced toward the men. Louis and Conor had returned to back up Leo, who seemed to have grown taller with their support.

“By now, you know Mom was married to a man like them,” Jada said, nodding toward Alessio and Raphael. “Dad was a bad man. These guys are all ‘bad men,’ but Dad was truly awful in every way. He treated Mom and me like we were traitors. I never thought I’d willingly go back to this life.”

“Why did you? Besides the obvious,” Genevieve added with a roll of her eyes and a flick of her wrist toward Louis.

Jada smiled knowingly as she glanced at Louis, who caught her gaze and winked. “Some people are just born for this life. No matter what I tried, I was always pulled into the shadows, placed in situations only I could handle.” She shifted to face Genevieve more fully. “Remember when you first moved to New York?”

Genevieve laughed softly, and Jada joined in.

“Of course you do. You got into three fights your first week. You gravitated toward Paul, the biggest bad boy at our prim-and-proper school. Hell, you even started a poker tournament in our basement.”

“You weren’t good at it,” Jada teased, grinning.

“But I managed the hell out of it and made us a ton of money,” Genevieve countered, laughing.

“Until Dad caught on.”

“Luckily, Mom was so impressed she talked him out of punishing us.”

“They were still in their honeymoon phase. I think we’re old enough now to know what she did to convince him.”

“God, I miss her,” Jada said softly, shaking her head. She rarely spoke about their mother’s death—a woman whose violent life was cut short by an illness few survive. “If she were here, she’d have better advice for you. Women don’t last long in this life, leaving a gap where their wisdom should be.”

“That’s… comforting,” Genevieve said with a sigh.

“No, not because they die,” Jada corrected. “These guys will protect you. Their Donnas are treasured. The biggest rule? No Don hits another man’s Donna. Women don’t last because they aren’t tough enough. They don’t walk into a room full of nerves and find confidence through fear, standing up to not one, but several mafia men. Look around, Gen—both Galantes, Palladino, Matteo, O’Brien, Bennett, the Russos… You’ve stood toe-to-toe with all of them. You’re impressive. I know it, they know it, and that’s why Matteo chased you and refused to let go. Not just because you’re fine as hell,” she added with a wink and nudge, “but because you’re a force. I’m proud to be your little sister. My big sister is a badass.”

Genevieve blinked back tears threatening to spill and pulled Jada into a tight hug. “I love you, Jade.”

“I love you too, Genevieve.”

A throat cleared sharply, breaking their embrace. They looked up to find Alessio standing with his hands clasped behind his back, jaw clenched, body rigid.

“We’ve reached a decision,” he announced.

Jada glanced at the clock above the stove. “Wow, only five hours.”

Alessio ignored her comment. “Two days from now, six o’clock. You’ll meet Michele at the docks,” he said with a dismissive eye roll. “Now you just need to pick a weapon.”

“It should be loud enough to alert the others,” Leo added from the living room.

“Not a gun,” Conor said quickly. “Michele will have you disarmed after the first shot.”

Genevieve felt her face flush and heat drain from her cheeks. Jada rubbed her arm gently, shooting Conor a warning look.

“Knives?” Louis suggested.

“I’m terrible with knives,” Genevieve replied, shaking her head.

“Well, how about a quick-fire round: wrench, hammer, tire iron, bow and arrow…” Louis rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Man, I wish Donati was here. He always has a damn list.”

“What about a bat?” Genevieve asked, eyes fixed on Leo.

Leo’s lips curved into a slow smile that sent a shiver down her spine. “Hmm, how about my bat?”