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Damiano leans back in his chair, relaxing just a little. "I understand how difficult this has been for you, Melania. Taking a life isn't easy, especially the first time."
"But," he continues, his voice hardening again, "these men were paid to kill you both. They made that choice when they took the money. They would have pulled the trigger without hesitation."
I shake my head, my fingers working faster around my mother's ring. "It doesn't matter if they were paid or not. I don't want to be that person—someone who takes lives." The memory of the man falling, the shock in his eyes as blood bloomed across his shirt, flashes across my vision. "I don't want to become like them."
I watch Melania's fingers twist her mother's ring, the movement growing more frantic as she speaks about killing that piece of shit at the gas station. Her face pales and I can see her startingto spiral out. This isn't helping her—dragging that memory back into the light when she'd finally managed to tuck it away.
I place my hand over Melania's, stilling the anxious movement of her fingers. Her skin feels chilled.
"Melania," I say, my voice directed at only her although the others can still hear. "That's enough about the gas station. It's done."
She looks up at me, relief flickering across her features.
"What we need to focus on now is Leonardo," I continue, steering us back to what matters. "How do you think we can reach him? Your father will have him watched, especially now."
Melania takes a deep breath, visibly gathering herself. When she speaks again she appears steadier.
"Leonardo has a routine," she says, her analytical mind already working through the problem. "Every Tuesday morning, he goes to the gym at 54th and Madison. It's exclusive—only three members allowed at a time. He always books the 5 a.m. slot."
"Early riser," Enzo comments.
"He says it clears his head before the day begins," Melania explains. "It's the one place he goes alone. No security, no assistants. Just him."
"That's tomorrow," I note, already calculating what we'll need.
Melania nods. "He's religious about it. Even when our mother died, he was back at the gym the following Tuesday. Says structure keeps him sane."
"It's a start," Damiano says. "But approaching him in public is risky."
"The gym has a private entrance in the back," Melania counters. "Members only. And the locker room has no cameras—Leonardo made sure of that when he joined."
I rub my thumb across her knuckles, feeling a surge of pride at her quick thinking. "You've thought this through."
"I know my brother," she says simply. "If we can get to him there he'll at least listen."
"And if he doesn't?" Enzo asks, always the pragmatist.
Melania meets his gaze without flinching. "Then we keep pulling evidence through the USB. Leonardo won't betray me even if he doesn't help us."
Going after Leonardo is a risk but we need those files from Antonio's safe—if he has them.
"I'll go tomorrow," I say, my decision made. "I'll pay someone at the gym—a good amount—to let me in like I'm just another client, there for an early session."
Damiano nods but Melania's brow furrows with concern.
"Leonardo will recognize you," she says, twisting at her mother's ring anxiously. "He knows who you are, what you do for the Ferettis."
"That's the point," I reply. "If he sees a stranger approaching, his guard goes up immediately. With me, he'll know exactly what's happening. No surprises."
Enzo leans forward. "And if he decides to call daddy dearest?"
"Then we'll be ready," I say, my voice toughening. "We're prepared for war if it comes to that."
Melania shakes her head. "Let me call him first. I can?—"
"No," I cut her off. "We can't risk a call being traced. Your father will have Leonardo's phone monitored."
Her fingers still on the ring as an idea forms. I see it in her eyes before she speaks.