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Slowly, they turn to look over at me, and as our eyes clash…I stop breathing.
“Don’t. Fucking. Look. At. Her!”
I shiver at the intensity of Dario’s words.
He doesn’t hesitate.
Before I can even blink, he’s storming forward, fury burning in his eyes.
I see the rage in him, the protectiveness he feels over me.
He can’t let them get away with this.
He won’t let them get away with what they’ve done.
But Alessandro is faster.
The man who’s been calm so far, the man who has been playing mediator all along, moves like a blur.
He stops Dario before he can reach the twins, his hand gripping my brother’s arm with an intense force that stops Dario from walking any further.
“Not now, Dario.” Alessandro growls, his voice low, yet also calm. “Do not make this any worse than it needs to be.”
Dario isn’t listening.
He says something to Alessandro, his own tone low as he spits the words into the Don’s face, but Alessandro’s grip only tightens, refusing to let go of my brother’s arm.
There’s raw tension in both men, and the way they're both glaring at each other makes it obvious.
I find myself trembling in Papa’s arms, feeling his grip tighten around me as the argument only intensifies. The shouting starts again, so loud and sharp, words flying in every direction.
Both Dario and Alessandro are yelling at each other too, their voices rising with every exchange.
And not for the first time, I’m thankful that my brother wasn’t able to be inducted.
I know that Alessandro is only allowing this to slip as Dario is speaking to him as my brother.
If this was a soldier speaking to his Don like this…
A shiver runs through me.
“Let go of me!” Dario finally shouts, his voice full of fury as he tears his arm out of Alessandro’s grip. “I’ll kill them for what they’ve done to my sister!”
Alessandro is back onto him in under a second.
“Enough!” The Don roars, his voice cutting through the chaos. “This isn’t the way to fix things.”
I feel like the room is closing in around me, the noise beginning to sound weird in my ears as I watch the scene unfold in front of me.
Papa holds me even tighter, and I can feel his pulse racing beneath my fingertips, but he doesn’t move.
He doesn’t step in.
He doesn’t stop the fight.
Everything is happening too fast, too violently.
This isn’t the way it was supposed to happen.