Page 79 of His Passerotta

“You’re the don, you’re under constant stress. I understand I oftentimes add to that.”

“Right, but I mean, with your girl. I shouldn’t have talked business in front of her like I did, or I should have at least pretended to remember you mentioning her. I should have remembered her, I just didn’t uh…” His fingers drum the arms of the chair. “I didn’t take you seriously with all your talk about diplomacy with the other organizations. Now that we’re in another war, I can see that you were probably right to try to work it out. If I’d followed your lead, maybe I could’ve talked to Cormac before it was too late and all of this could’ve been avoided.”

“Maybe you could’ve spoken to Cormac, but it’s doubtful you’d have ever been successful talking Nikita down.”

He sighs. “Probably not.”

I glance at my computer monitor, debating on telling him what I know. Or at least part of what I suspect. I need to be careful to keep Bailey safe, but by staying quiet, I put the familia in danger. I’m not so sure I’m ready to choose her over them. Maybe she was right when she insisted that familial love is stronger than romantic love.

“I do think it’s possible that all of this was a mistake.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, leaning back in the chair.

I pause several seconds, thinking through my words.

Bailey or the familia?

Do I really have to choose?

“I don’t think the bombing outside La Divina was the Irish. I think someone was trying to frame them.”

“What?” He huffs. “Why?”

“I’m not sure,” I say, telling the truth. That’s what I have to find out.

“Why would you think that?”

I shrug. “It’s a gut feeling I have.”

He nods but looks off like he’s considering it. “Okay… I’ll try to get in touch with Cormac. Was uh, was your girl able to get any helpful information?”

My girl, the spy. I can hear the guilt in his voice as he asks the question. He really believes I had a better plan than actual peace with the others.

It almost makes me angry that I lied in the first place. That I felt the need to cover my tracks. It’s pathetic how badly I try to prove myself to my brother.

I don’t have the energy for that today.

“I lied about that,” I say, feeling my shoulders squaring, gearing up for a fight. “She was just a girl who walked in at the wrong time. I knew you would think it was weak to let her live, so I made up some bullshit.” I splay my hands on my desk. “There you go, you don’t have to feel guilty. I’m as weak as you’ve always thought.”

“Weak?” Settimo rears back like he’s genuinely surprised. “You think I believe you’re weak?”

I don’t answer. My jaw stays clenched, and my arms stay flexed.

“Jesus, Anthony.” Settimo shakes his head. “No brother of mine is weak. You drive me crazy with your patience and thoroughness in your work, but it makes you an asset. You’re the voice of reason within the familia. Lorenzo and I count on you to balance us out.”

My jaw starts to relax, and I bring my hands in front of me, resting my forearms on the desk.

“And you’re not the only one capable of mercy,” Settimo goes on. “Without it, we’d be nothing but savages. There’s nothing wrong with letting a girl make you soft. Once.”

Without it, we’d be nothing but savages.

It reminds me of what Bailey said. Strength without mercy is for nothing.

That’s what I am for the familia, what I’ve always been. The mercy behind the strength. The reason behind the violence. The soft among the hardened. I’ve tried my whole life to change it. It’s never occurred to me that I’m the only one who wants it changed.

One side of Settimo’s lips lift. “You know, I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little hurt that you introduced Bailey to Lorenzo before you did me.”

“It wasn’t like I hosted game night.” I huff out a laugh. “Lorenzo figured out immediately that I didn’t kill her. He showed up to my apartment while she was there.”

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