I prepare myself for his reaction before saying, “They’re safe, Damiano. They’re under our protection.”

His knuckles whiten around the hot dog. “What do you mean, ‘your protection?’ Where are they?”

“They’re in a secure location,” I say, carefully choosing my words. “We extracted them from Naples for their own safety.”

Damiano’s face contorts with rage. “You kidnapped them? I’ll kill you, I swear to God I will.”

I scoff. “We didn’t kidnap them. We saved them. They’re safe, and they’ll stay that way.”

He leans in close, his voice a low growl. “If you’ve hurt them, I will hurt you.”

“We haven’t,” I say firmly. “And we won’t. That’s not what this is about.”

Still tense, he moves back slightly to study me. “Then what is it about?”

I take another bite of my hot dog, buying myself a moment to gather my thoughts. “It’s about ending this war before it destroys us all. Isabella and Tony are collateral damage in a fight that doesn’t need to happen.”

“You think it’s that simple?” Damiano scoffs. “You have no idea what’s at stake here.”

“Then tell me? Make me understand why this bloodshed is necessary when I have zero interest in taking your territory.”

Damiano is quiet for a long moment, his jaw working as he struggles with some internal debate. Finally, he speaks. “It’s not just about power or territory. It’s about survival. The old ways are dying, and if we don’t adapt, we’ll be wiped out.”

“And you think aligning with the Colombians is the answer?” I ask.

He nods. “It’s a start. We need new blood and new connections. The Russians are too set in their ways. They’ll drag us down with them.”

I consider his words. “And what about Isabella and Tony? Where do they fit into this grand plan of yours?”

His expression softens for a moment, and I catch a glimpse of the man Isabella fell in love with. “They were supposed to be safe, hidden away from all of this. I never wanted them involved.”

“But they are involved,” I say gently. “And now we have to figure out how to end this conflict before more innocent people get hurt.”

Damiano studies me, his expression unreadable. “What are you proposing?”

I exhale raggedly. This is the moment of truth. “A truce. A way for both sides to save face and come to an agreement that benefits everyone. We can work together to modernize our operations without resorting to all-out war, and we don’t have to drag drugs into our city to do it. You know Santino doesn’t approve of that.”

He stiffens. “Papa discussed that with you?”

I make a sound that can be interpreted as affirmative, since my information comes solely from Kiril. Judging from how shamefaced he looks now, I’d say my husband’s intel is solid.

“And Isabella and Tony?”

“They stay safe, away from all of this. You can see them, but on neutral ground and under controlled circumstances until we have a firm truce. We ensure their protection, and you get to be a part of their lives without putting them in danger. Once things are settled, I assume you’ll want them to live with you, and it will be much safer for them to do so if you embrace the truce our father wants with the Russians.”

Damiano is quiet for a long time, mulling over my words. I wait with a ball of hidden anxiety in my stomach, knowing that everything hinges on his response. Is he capable of being reasonable and considering new options, or will he cling to his insistence of war and bloodshed?

27

Kiril

The phone rings, and I snatch it up, my jaw clenching as Viktor’s voice comes through.

“Boss, we have a situation. Felicity has left the penthouse. She’s meeting with Damiano at Central Park.”

My blood boils almost instantly. “What? How did this happen?”

“She slipped past security. I overheard a phone call. She’s heading to a meeting with Damiano right now.”