I loosen my clenched fists and rub my hands together. The palms are bone dry.

“You’ll be paid,” Massimo says from far away.

I am in Dario’s world. Everything’s closing in on me. I can’t think with him turning circles inside five glowing rectangles.

“Right,” Sergio says. “Thing is—”

“Shut them off,” I say.

“Am I done talking, lovemuff?”

“She talks when she wants,” Massimo growls. “She is the first daughter, and she told you to shut them off.”

Sergio pauses, puckers again, glances at Raymond, then Marco, then flips the remote, catching it button-side-up.

“I remember you at Armistice Night.” He clicks a button. The screens go black. “Un-fucking-forgettable in that slutty red dress with Lucari letting you stand in the rain. Not even a fucking umbrella.” He looks at me with a regretful hunger, as if picturing the wet fabric sticking to my body.

“Ray,” Massimo barks, “pull the car around. We’re going back to Precious Blood.”

Ray hesitates. Looks at Sergio, who’s got his eyes on me, then back at Massimo, whose expression I can’t see. Whatever it is, it makes Ray run out the back.

“That dress was my idea,” Sergio continues as if Massimo didn’t just get Ray to leave.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“The lady on the bed? With that flat hole they left between her legs? My idea to put her in that dress. The Scots, they used to knit secret messages into sweaters, but that message?” He shakes his head. “No knitting required. Peter loved it. Dad of the year, don’t you think? Anyway. You looked better in it.”

“You’re disgusting.” My insult sounds desperate. I have nothing to threaten him with. No power. No weapon. He has Dario and all I have is a brother who won’t be traded.

“And you’re what?” Sergio gets off the stool. “Defiled is what you call it? By an outsider? You guys take that pretty serious. Word gets around. Who knows what your people will do to you.” He faces Massimo. “Am I right or am I right?”

My brother hands me the broom handle and walks without support. I can’t imagine the pain, but he takes those steps as if nothing has ever—or ever will—hurt him and crowds Sergio against the bar.

“You’re a worthless outsider.” Massimo’s murmur has the force of truth. “You don’t decide what happens to Sarah Colonia. You’re nothing. We’ll string you from the ceiling and bury you where no one can find you—right next to the outsider who murdered my father.”

These men are engines of death with fuel tanks full of revenge. All of them. I can’t even stop it. The panic shooting through me leaves my muscles paralyzed and brittle.

“Kill him if you gotta.” Sergio takes half a step back. “But if you do me… well, you can have a war with the Agostis if you want, but my dad didn’t pick Ettore for his sweet disposition if you know what I mean.”

Ray returns through the back door.