“Then why haven’t you killed all of us over it?” I yell, spinning toward Mikhail with tears rolling down my cheeks.

“Because, little wife, your pet monster has protected you all along.”

“Right,” I murmur, unbelieving. “He dragged me to a fucking maze and drugged me! Don’t tell me that’s protecting!”

Mik’s brows raise. “And then let you go.” He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Well, I can’t answer for the way he went about it, but I can tell you why we didn’t just kill you all instead, and that’s simply because Wicked?” the corners of his mouth curve up in a dark grin. “Gave a better ultimatum. I take La Rosa and Antonio, you go back to being the baddest mafia bitch everyone loves with a forever alliance to us with no war, and Wicked—” His eyes flash up to him before moving over his shoulder. “Will give my brother back unharmed.”

“Brother?” I follow his eyes. Val sidesteps out, flashing me a smile. “No.”

Val’s arms wrap around my body, pulling me in tight. He kisses my head. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”

“No, you’re not,” I grumble into his chest.

He chuckles. “No, I’m not. You were entirely too much fun.”

“Can I keep you?”

He leans down until his lips are at my ear. “You’ll always have me.”

It makes sense now, why Wicked hated Val so much. Slowly, I turn back to Papa, tears long since dried. “You know I’ve felt pain, Papa. I’ve been shot, hurt”—I cast a side glance at Wicked—“and manipulated most of my life. But you? You were my constant. You were my first love and my heart.”

Papa—Victor says nothing. His mouth slams closed and his fists clench on either side of his thighs.

“I don’t understand why I didn’t know any of this or pick it up.”

Wicked moves closer to me, kneeling down when I drop onto a chair near Tony’s body. “You couldn’t.” Wicked stands again, turning to face Papa. “Of course we all found out who my parents were, and Victor had to change course when he found out I was Sicilian Cosa Nostra blood. He had to change course.”

Papa sneers, spitting on the ground. “Your father was weak.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” Wicked grins. “I didn’t know him to care.”

“He wasn’t—” Mikhail steps on top of Tony’s chest, coming closer. “For one, he never shat on his family.”

I reach for Mik’s arm. “I get that you want your revenge, but I need to ask for one thing.”

Mikhail’s face scrunches up, as though he doesn’t want to give me what I want. He spews off in Russian beneath his breath before waving his hand for me to continue.

“I want Skully. It’s only fair he’s mine and Wicked’s…”