Page 104 of Pietro

Michael is Tony's grandson. Seven years old. I remember him at the last family barbecue, playing with toy cars.

"Who has him?"

"The Murphy's. I talk to someone Declan Wilson." Tony's voice breaks on the name. "Took him three months ago. Said if I didn't feed them information, he'd... he'd send him back in pieces."

''Oh my God.'' Nora says, hovering her mouth with her hand.

Tony is looking at her but I don't have time to spend on explanations. Not to a man who betrayed the entire family.

I now have many more reasons to hate Declan fucking Wilson more than every human on Earth.

"Three months." The timeline matches perfectly. Every leaked shipment, every ambush. "You should have come to me."

"You were grieving Riccardo." Tony wipes his eyes with a shaking hand. "Taking over as Don. Bruno. The family was in chaos. I thought I could handle it, feed them just enough to keep Michael safe until I figured something out."

"You got our men killed."

"I know." The words come out broken. "I know what I've done. But he's seven, Pietro. He still sleeps with a nightlight."

I stare at the man who stood guard outside my hospital room when I broke my arm at eight. The betrayal burns, but underneath it, I understand. Family makes us all weak.

"Where's Declan keeping him?"

"I don't know. They call me, give me demands. I comply or they hurt him. Last week they sent a photo of him with a black eye because I was late with intel."

The rage returns, but different now—directed at the Irish bastard using a child as leverage.

"Pietro." Nora's voice is soft. "We can get him back."

Tony's head snaps up. "What?"

I look at her, see the certainty in her eyes. She's already working the problem, that brilliant mind cutting through emotion to strategy.

"We can trade for him," she continues. "Information for the boy."

"Declan won't trade. He has all the power."

"Not if we make him think he's getting something better." She looks at me. "Me."

"Absolutely not."

"Hear me out. Declan thinks I'm Connor's daughter. He'd trade a random kid for Connor O'Sullivan's daughter."

"I said no."

She turns to Tony. "Do you have a contact method?"

"Nora." My voice drops to a growl.

She ignores me. "Tony?"

"They call me. Burner phone." He pulls it from his pocket with trembling fingers.

"We'll set up an exchange. Tell them you have information about me, but you want Michael released first."

"They won't go for it."

"They will if you sell it right." She takes the phone, examining it. "When do they usually call?"