Page 104 of Savage Union
"Me," I say flatly.
"You. And everything that comes with you—territory, power, respect." She shakes her head. "This isn't about you anymore, Rina. It's bigger than that now. It's about who controls New York."
The scale of what I've inadvertently set in motion crashes over me like a wave. "I never meant for any of this to happen."
"I know." Elena's voice gentles. "You were desperate. We both were. Your father was a monster, and the Irish seemed like the only way out."
"And now I've created something worse." The irony is bitter on my tongue. "I've started a war."
"The war was always coming," Elena says with quiet certainty. "You just gave them the spark they needed."
I move to the window, watching Vito and my mother in the garden below. They sit together on a stone bench, engaged in what appears to be a serious conversation. My mother's face is animated in a way I haven't seen in years—free from the constant fear that dominated her life with my father.
And Vito... he's listening to her. Actually listening, with a respect I never witnessed my father show her. The sight stirs something complicated in my chest.
"What if I talk to Liam directly?" I suggest, turning back to Elena. "Explain the situation, negotiate some kind of truce?"
Her eyes widen with alarm. "Are you insane? If Vito found out you were meeting with Liam Costello, he'd?—"
"I know what he'd do," I interrupt. The thought of Vito's rage, his sense of betrayal if he discovered my connection to the Irish, sends ice through my veins. "But I have to try something."
"Rina." Elena grips my shoulders, forcing me to meet her gaze. "Listen to me. You can't fix this. The Irish are comingfor Vito. They're coming for you. The best thing you can do is prepare."
"Prepare how?"
"Figure out which side you're really on." Her gaze is unflinching. "Because when this blows up—and it will—you'll have to choose. The man who killed your father, or the man you promised yourself to in exchange for that death."
The impossible choice looms before me like an abyss. "I can't let either of them have me," I whisper.
"Then you need an exit strategy." Elena glances toward the doorway, lowering her voice further. "I can help with that. Get you out of the country, set you up somewhere they can't find you."
"And leave my mother and Sofia behind?" I shake my head. "Never."
"Then you're trapped," she states bluntly. "Liam won't back down. Vito won't let you go. And you're caught in the middle."
I press my fingers to my temples, trying to quiet the panic rising in my chest. "There has to be another way."
"If you find one, let me know." Her tone softens with genuine regret. "I'll try to talk to Liam, but don't expect anything to change. They've been planning this too long."
"Thank you for trying," I say, gratitude mixing with dread. "Did you bring the burner phone?"
Elena shoots me a death glare, but places the device in my hand firmly. I tuck it into my bra just as the sound of footsteps in the hallway alerts us to Sofia's return. Elena squeezes my hand quickly. "Be careful, Rina. Watch what you say, what you do. And for god's sake, don't let Vito know about any of this."
"I won't," I promise, though guilt tugs at me. The growing connection between Vito and me feels tainted by the secret I'm keeping—a betrayal that predates our relationship but poisons it nonetheless.
CHAPTER 33
Vito
The penthouse welcomesus with silent luxury after the long drive back from the Hamptons. Night has fallen over Manhattan, the city lights creating constellations against the darkness beyond our windows. I watch Caterina as she moves through the space—her shoulders carrying a tension that wasn't there earlier in the day.
"Would you like a drink?" I offer, moving to the bar.
She nods, settling onto one of the leather couches. "Please."
I pour two glasses of scotch, the amber liquid catching the light as I hand one to her. She accepts it with a small smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
"You seem preoccupied," I observe, taking the seat opposite her rather than beside her. Space sometimes yields more truth than proximity.
