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“Excuse me, who are you?” Dom demanded.

“She got me out,” I said. “Be nice.”

Trevor entered the café and handed Dom a printout. Matteo and Nico read over his shoulder.

“She’s going to be paid handsomely for it,” Dad said.

“Money is nice,” Sloane said. “But it’s not everything. I’m doing this for Divina. Since the Rossis came into her life, they’ve done nothing but push her around.”

“And you're her champion, I presume,” Dom mocked. “Sloane Scott? Of Scotty’s Cleaning Service. Looks like here, you’re in need of cash.”

“You have no right!” Sloane shrieked when she realized what my cousin had in his hand. She made to grab the piece of paper from Dom. Of course, my cousin, who could be annoying as fuck, held the damning information out of reach.

“Dom, seriously?” I scolded.

All levity disappeared from his face enough to make Sloane back down. “You bring an unknown into De Lucci territory.” He didn’t need to stress that this building was the heart of the De Lucci crime family operations. That was why we were in the café despite the construction. It was the only public place. He wouldn’t let a rival crime family into The Underground—the basement—nor the residential spaces above us. “I make it my business to know.”

“Sloane is just helping,” I told him. “But let’s not get sidetracked. Tommy?”

He sighed and slipped out his phone.

“Your cousin is a giant asshole,” Sloane said in my ear.

“I thought you wanted me to introduce your business.”

“I’m having second thoughts.”

“My men are bringing him over,” Dom said. “Sandro is blowing up my phone.”

Matteo and Nico mentioned the same thing.

“Well, answer it,” I said. They’d confiscated Divina’s and Sloane’s phones so no one could call them either.

The men looked at each other and I wanted to knock their heads together with their identical smug faces.

“Payback is a bitch,” Nico said.

The café door opened again, and Renz appeared.

“Bianca?”

I burst into tears.

Chapter

Twenty-Five

Bianca

I thought I’d run out of tears, but seeing Renz on his feet instead of lying down in pain or heavily sedated did a number on my heart. It also gave added perspective to Dad’s and my brothers’ anger and their burning desire to sever my connections to the Rossis.

I was in a turmoil between guilt, duty, and my love for Sandro.

Love? I’d always loved him. But there were different types of love and at this moment, I couldn’t analyze which spectrum it fell on.

Because right here, right now, I was overwhelmed with love for my De Lucci family.

“I’m so sorry,” I cried as Renz one-armed me to his uninjured side. I didn’t know how many times I’d repeated the apology. But I would repeat it until they told me to shut up or gag me. But it was as if a balloon of warmth expanded in my chest. I’d been on a roller coaster of my feelings for Sandro, and I wondered if I was reluctant to find happiness with him, to fully commit tohim until I’d seen with my own eyes that Renz was okay. That my obsession with Sandro didn’t cost my brother permanent damage.