Oh, hell.

My mother’s idea of the perfect dress was something akin to what Cinderella wore to the ball. My sense of style and hers did not mesh, but she was so excited, I couldn’t find the words to refuse. “Yeah, we can do that.”

“Wonderful! And I opened the sunroom and started to set up your old studio so you can paint while you’re here.” She paused, and her eyes took on a weary sadness. “I never thought I’d say this, but I miss having your paint all over the house.”

I was her youngest—the baby of the family—and she experienced a deep sense of loss when she became an empty nester. That first year I was at Columbia, she hosted a dozen parties to keep herself busy. Since then, she had settled into the next phase of her life and was satisfied so long as we all showed up for weekly dinners.

“That’s sweet, Mom. Thanks.” I walked to her outstretched arms, and she wrapped me in a warm hug.

“We’re glad you’re home, even if it is just for a few weeks. How about you get settled in and let me know if there’s anything I’ve forgotten, okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” I kissed her cheek and headed for the stairs. My sisters and I had our bedrooms on the second floor along with a fourth room that had been our older brother’s. That door always remained shut, which had probably made it harder to forget than if my parents had simply emptied the room and dedicated it to another purpose. Instead, it was a constant memorial to what we’d all lost.

I’d walked the path to my room a million times in my life, and it was hard not to feel like the lost little girl I’d once been as I retraced those same steps. It was precisely why I never went up there after I moved out. Even when I stopped in on Sunday for our obligatory family dinners, I stuck to the ground floor. Seeing the closed door was hard enough on my battered heart, but the reminder of Nico was more than it could take. Rather than unpack, I curled beneath the covers of my double bed and allowed the strong hands of grief to drag me down beneath the surface of its icy waters.

Everyone in the outfit had been on edge for the past twenty-four hours after Alessia Genovese was kidnapped. Word got around when she’d been located, but tensions were still elevated to a stifling degree. Shit behind the scenes must have been bad because Alessia’s father, Enzo Genovese, stepped out of the shadows for the first time and took ownership of his role as boss of the Lucciano family.

My boss.

I was sworn member of his outfit—whether I had wanted to be or not.

Now, it was an accepted part of my life, but that hadn’t always been the case. Once I was initiated, I had no choice but to accept my fate and settle into my role as a soldier in the organization. I was a grunt and well aware of it, which was why it surprised me to receive a summons to attend a meet.