Page 107 of Pietro

"It wasn't—" I stop. Because it was exactly that. "We needed the bond. The Ferettis control New York's ports. With them as permanent allies, we'd have the entire eastern seaboard locked down. Marriage was the only guarantee they'd always stand with us."

"And she came back?"

"She came. Although I know that she did it to protect Daniel from getting killed. Damiano was hunting them. She looked broken. But the ceremony went ahead."

The memory floods back. The cathedral, flowers everywhere, Lucrezia in white looking like she wanted to die.

"The Volkovs had people inside." I force the words out steady. "Russian mob from Moscow. We'd checked everyone, swept the building twice. But they'd hidden two shooters days before."

Nora stays silent, letting me tell it my way.

"First shot came during the vows. Hit Bruno." I can still hear the crack of the rifle, see Bruno falling. "Daniel Hayes appeared from nowhere. Killed the shooter before anyone else could react."

"He saved Bruno's life."

"We didn't know there were two Russians. No one knew." My voice goes flat. "Riccardo saw Daniel with a gun near Bruno and Lucrezia. Thought he was the threat."

I remember Riccardo's face. Pure rage as he raised his weapon at Daniel.

"Lucrezia threw herself between them. Riccardo's bullet caught her hand instead of Daniel's head." The scene plays out behind my eyes. "That's when the second Russian revealed himself."

"Oh God."

"Single shot. Right through Riccardo's temple." I swallow hard. "He was dead before he hit the floor. The oldest son, the one groomed from birth to lead. Gone in seconds."

The car feels colder somehow.

"Bruno's been in a coma ever since. And Daniel..." I shake my head. "He killed the second Russian."

"And you became Don."

"By default." The admission burns. "I was never supposed to lead. That was Riccardo's destiny, then Bruno's if something happened to Riccardo. I was the spare's spare. The fuck-up middle son who got his best friend killed."

"Pietro—"

"Giuseppe trained Riccardo from childhood. Every lesson, every meeting, every decision. I was the soldier, the one who handled messy problems. Not the one who made strategic choices."

I pull into Arancini's parking lot, killing the engine.

"The family needed leadership." I finally look at her. " Yep. That's me. The wrong brother wearing the crown."

"Wrong brother?" She unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to face me fully. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"Nora—"

"No." Her voice cuts through the car like a blade. "You're not the wrong anything. You're just a man who's been through hell and won't let anyone see how much you're bleeding inside."

The words hit harder than any punch.

"You don't understand?—"

"I understand perfectly." Her hands ball into fists. "I've seen enough all this time. Your entire family does this. Lorenzo buries himself in restaurants and diplomacy. Nico hides behind hate and strategy. Even Vittoria—she smiles and plays hostess while grieving Riccardo every damn day. I can't talk about Ava since she is just a ghost walking around."

"That's not?—"

"It's exactly what it is." She's practically vibrating with anger now. "You're all so busy performing as 'men' who can't have feelings that you're drowning in your own silence. God forbid any of you actually talk about the pain instead of just... existing with it."

I hate that she's right. Hate how easily she sees through us .