“Shh. Quiet now. You’re safe.” I can’t tell if it’s Bastian or Amadeo’s voice. My arms are behind me, wrists held tight by one brother while the other cradles the back of my head and whispers that I’m safe, I’m all right. I’m safe.

But I’m not all right. I haven’t been all right for a very long time. And I’ve never been safe.

“We need to get her upstairs and out of here,” Bastian says. “Away from these men. This place.”

Amadeo straightens and lifts me up, cradling me against him. I wrap my arm around his neck and bury my face against him. I taste blood.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, princess.

I feel my resistance giving way. Hot tears stream down my face as I cry ugly and loud. The smell of the room, of basement and beer and whiskey and violence, is too much, and when that cry is over, I’m so exhausted. Empty. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. I am so fucking tired, and this emotion has drained the last of my energy. I can’t fight anymore. I can’t.

Amadeo must feel me yield because he tucks me closer and tells me it’ll be all right. He looks down at me, and I meet his eyes for an instant before turning my face back into his chest and burying it there.

“Get them all in the back of the truck,” Bastian says. “You know where to take them. No one touches them without my order. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” a soldier answers.

Amadeo begins the climb up the stairs. I open my eyes briefly to see Bastian following, eyes locked on me, so I close mine again, breath heaving as years-old tears stream like never before.

2

AMADEO

“I’ll get the kit,” Bastian says as I carry Vittoria through the dark house, past the open door of her bedroom and to my own. Adrenaline sends blood pounding through me.

We knew something was wrong the minute we drove through the still-guarded gates of the Naples house. Bastian commented on how dark the house was as the thought formed in my own mind. I’d been thinking about Sonny’s strange mention of one of our houses being attacked. About rats. Was it his warning? Had he already ordered the attack while we were at the Ravello house talking? While he was visiting and making nice with mom? When we walked through the front doors, we saw right away that less soldiers were inside than should have been. The house was dark. Too dark. And the stink of cigarettes, aggression, and fear permeated from the basement.

But those soldiers down there, they were ours.

We were attacked from within, and Vittoria was their target. I failed to protect her as I promised I would.