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“What?” Phoenix pulls back, staring at me like I’ve just told him I plan to climb Everest barefoot.

“It’s testing for a condition I might have,” I explain, the words spilling out in a rush. “My mother had it and it’s . . . a big deal if I’ve got it.”

“And you have to do it now?” Phoenix’s eyes rake over me, taking in my tangled hair, the bandaged arm, the mismatched hospital gowns I threw on in a hurry, one gaping open at the back, the other draped over the first like a badly fitted jacket. My stockinged feet are crammed into ward-issued rabbit slippers that squeak against the floor. I look ridiculous.

But I couldn’t be more determined. “Yes, right now.”

Sophie’s voice is gentle through her tears. “Luna, you’ve been through enough today. Take a breath, please.”

“Where will you even get this… test done?” Phoenix asks, his brows knitting in confusion.

“Luna.” Papa rises slowly from his chair in the corner, his usual stoic mask cracked by a glimmer of concern. “Stellina,we don’t need you to do that. Not anymore.”

“I’m not doing it for you, Papa.” I snap. “I’m doing it for the man I love. He died twice today and both times fought to come back to me. And I’ve been too scared to face a simple blood test? He deserves better than that.”

Papa studies me for a long moment, then sighs heavily. “If that’s what you want . . .”

His hands spread in a gesture of acceptance. “Well, we’re in a hospital. They must have a genetics department.”

There’s something in his expression—so subtle I missed it before. But I see it now—the gleam warming his eyes at my potential diagnosis: a fifty percent chance that power would shift back to him if he has to tell the family I’m sick.

His hand drops to the small of my back, and he starts guiding me out of the room. “I’ll take you—”

I stop walking and put my hand on his arm. “Actually, Papa. You will not.”

He blinks, thrown off rhythm.“Stellina?”

I move into his space, breathing in that familiar cigar scent as I wrap my arms around him. Then I step back and lift my chin.

“I appreciate you coming to see that Cade and I are okay. But you should head back to Chicago.”

He stiffens at my tone, but I don’t—can’t—care.

“Now, Papa.” I force more steel into my voice. “Go back and tell the family—both in Chicago and Sicily—that Cade and I’ve made a complete recovery.”

His face is a mask of disbelief. “You can’t possibly handle this alone, Luna.”

“I’m not alone, Papa.” I throw an arm wide around the room. “I’ve got family.”

“Luna makes an excellent point,” Nico adds from across the room.

Papa’s gaze flicks to Nico, and his shoulders go rigid as the implications sink in. For a moment, I see the battle in his eyes—pride warring with politics, paternal instinct clashing with survival. Then his face smooths into that mask I know so well. He leans forward and kisses both my cheeks.

“Very well,stellina.”

The word carries a different weight now. He gives me a slight nod—the same one I’ve seen Clemenza give him.

He walks out, his spine straight, but his steps are slightly too quick. My heart pounds against my ribs at the reality of what I’ve just done. I’ve dismissed my own father. Pulled rank on the man who taught me power moves over breakfast.

Nico moves to my side. “He’ll adjust. They all do, eventually.”

I nod absently.

“Luna?” Sophie’s voice breaks through my daze. She and Addy stand ready by the door, offering support without pressure. “We don’t know what this genetics test is about, but can we come with you?”

The look on her face is a flicker of what I see in Cade’s. Even Addy whom I’ve never met before today, also has that . . . look. So do Nico and Dante.

I realize with a tightness in my chest that Cade was right. These people really are my family.