“He’s sorry,” Salvatore said quietly. “He writes to me, and every time he says how sorry he is about how he told you. How he lost both his sons that night.”

I bit my tongue not to speak. I didn’t give a fuck. I. Did. Not. Give. A. Fuck.

Salvatore sighed. “He’s older. Weaker. But he’s Franco Benedetti. He’ll outlive all of us. But if this is true, he’ll skin Roman alive.” He paused. “Do you have a safe place to go, to take her?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t tell me where.”

“I wasn’t going to. I have to go.”

“Check in with me. Please. And if you need me—”

“I won’t. Go be with your family.”

“I love you, brother.”

Fuck. How could those words impact me now? Seven years later?

“I have to go.” I disconnected the call before I said something stupid. Before I had to eat the words I’d fed Gia and stand the fool.

First thing I needed to do was get Gia out of there.

I had no delusions about what that would mean for me. I was stealing from Victor Scava. Possibly from his uncle, Angus, the head of the Scava family. Either would kill me for what I was about to do.

But according to what Gia told me, Victor at least knew where we were. He’d sent us here to this cabin. I’d used it before. Eight times, to be precise. So he’d been the one who’d hired me all those times. But did he know I was once Dominic Benedetti? If he did, would he have sent Gia to me with our brand marking her body? Or was it just that? Had he sent her, intending for me to find it?

For a moment I entertained the idea of taking her to Franco. Of reminding him of his pledge to keep her and her family safe. But then, I live in the real world. Family comes before any pledge and ultimately, Roman was family. He was his brother-in-law. Gia was the daughter of a dead foot soldier and the sister of a snitch.

Either Victor Scava branded and killed Mateo Castellano and left it to look like Roman’s work, or he’d taken the order from Roman to kill him. Would Victor take an order from Roman? No. No fucking way. And no way Roman would tell him to brand his fucking name on the dead man. He was much too clever for that.

The two families didn’t deal with each other. There wasn’t a rivalry; they didn’t share territory. But was there some sort of allegiance? A secret pact? And had something gone wrong for Victor to want Roman out badly enough he’d send a message that could make Roman’s own family turn on him?