Page 21 of Sinner
"You're a philanthropist who builds hospitals and funds scholarships," I remind him. "Not exactly equipped for mafia negotiations."
"There's more to me than you know." He takes another sip of scotch. "Always has been."
I study my oldest friend, wondering at the confidence in his voice. We've known each other since childhood, having grownup in the same Brooklyn neighborhood. Still, our paths diverged dramatically—mine to the seminary, his to Harvard Business School, and then a meteoric rise through New York's financial world.
"Even if you could help with that part of the equation," I say, "there's still the Church. My vows."
"Vows can be released. You wouldn't be the first priest to leave for love." He leans forward. "The question is: is she worth it?"
Caterina's face fills my mind—her delicate features, the vulnerability in her eyes when she let me see the real her, not the polished society daughter. The way she came alive in my arms.
"Yes," I say without hesitation. "She's worth everything."
"Then that's your answer." Luca reaches across the table, gripping my shoulder. "Love like this comes once in a lifetime, if you're lucky. Don't throw it away because of fear."
"It's not that simple?—"
"It never is," he interrupts. "But it's worth fighting for. And you won't fight alone."
I want to believe him. Want to believe there's a way through this labyrinth of obligations and dangers.
"Time is running out," I say, glancing at my watch. Nearly five—I need to leave soon to meet her. "Her wedding is days away. Every hour that passes makes this more impossible."
"Let me help you," Luca insists. "You'd be surprised what I can accomplish with a few phone calls."
I laugh again, shaking my head. "I'll keep that in mind. If I need someone to donate a library or fund a scholarship for us to run away on, you'll be my first call."
Something like irritation crosses his face, quickly masked. "Don't underestimate me, Nico. I'm more than what you see."
"I know you're powerful, Luca. Just not in the ways that matter here." I drain my scotch. "But I appreciate the offer. If I need your help, I'll let you know."
He nods, accepting this for now. "When will you see this girl again?"
"Tonight," I admit, feeling a rush of anticipation even saying it. "At the library."
"Ah, the library." His eyes twinkle. "Where all the best love affairs begin."
I recheck my watch. "I should go. I need to... prepare."
"Prepare?" Luca raises an eyebrow. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
Heat rises to my face. "That's not what I meant."
"Of course not." He signals for the check. "Go. Be with your Caterina. But remember my offer. When things get complicated—and they will—call me."
I stand, straightening my clerical collar. "Thank you for lunch. And for... understanding."
"What are friends for?" He rises too, towering over me despite my own considerable height. "Besides, I'm enjoying this new, rebellious Nico. He's much more interesting than the saint I've known all these years."
As I walk out into the crisp winter afternoon, Luca's words echo in my mind. Is there really a way through this? Could I leave the priesthood, face down two of New York's most dangerous families, and build a life with Caterina?
The thought both terrifies and exhilarates me. For the first time in my life, I find myself praying not for strength to resist temptation, but for courage to embrace it. To embrace her.
My phone buzzes with another text from Caterina: *Counting the minutes.*
I type back quickly: *Me too. See you soon.*
Three simple words that carry the weight of everything I've ever wanted and everything I stand to lose.
