Page 23 of The Seventh Circle
"Two hours ago, maybe three. They left when Signor Bianchi threatened to call the carabinieri."
I gripped his shoulder. "Thank you."
"Your father helped mine when times were bad. We don't forget." Matteo pressed an apple into my hand. "Be careful, Tonio."
I cut through back alleys, moving quickly but watching for followers. The apple remained untouched in my pocket, my appetite gone. Vito was escalating—asking about Enzo, mapping our home. This wasn't just about me anymore.
When I reached our tenement, I took the stairs two at a time. Inside, Mama was hanging laundry while Enzo practiced letters at the table.
"Tonio!" Enzo jumped up, his face brightening. "Can we go to the fountain today? You promised to show me how to skip stones."
I ruffled his hair, forcing a smile. "Soon, piccolo. Where's Papa?"
"He's taking a nap, keep it down or you'll wake him." Mama turned from the laundry, her eyes narrowing as she studied my face. "What's happened?"
I couldn't hide anything from her. Never could. "Nothing to worry about."
"Antonio." She crossed her arms.
I sighed. "Just some trouble with another family. Work business."
"The scarred man?" she asked.
I nodded, keeping my voice light for Enzo's benefit. "It's being handled. But maybe Enzo should stay with Aunt Teresa for a few days."
Enzo's face fell. "But you promised—"
"I know, and we'll go to the fountain soon," I knelt to his level. "Think of it as an adventure. Aunt Teresa has that cat you like, and those almond cookies."
Mama touched my cheek, her callused fingers gentle. "This man, he knows where we live?"
"He's asking questions, that's all."
Her eyes held mine. "The Benedettos will protect you? It is their fight, after all."
"Yes," I said, though the truth was more complicated. The Benedettos protected their interests, and I was useful to them. Lorenzo might want to help—Lorenzo might feel something for me beyond utility—but sentiment didn't dictate family business.
"I'll speak to your father when he wakes," she said. "Now eat something before you disappear again. You're too thin."
I forced down bread and cheese, checked our small apartment's locks and windows, then pressed the apple from Matteo into Enzo's hands before leaving. As I descended the stairs, I ran through my options. I could handle Vito myself, away from my family, but that risked escalation without the Benedetto name behind me. I could also ask Lorenzo for help, but that meant admitting I couldn't protect my own family.
And seeing Lorenzo meant facing feelings I'd only justconfessed to Father Giuseppe—feelings that might ruin everything if acted upon them.
The walk to the Benedetto compound took longer than usual. I circled blocks, doubled back, watched reflections in shop windows for followers. By the time I arrived, the afternoon was half gone.
Paolo met me at the gate, eyebrows raised. "You're late, Romano."
"Had some business to attend to," I said, matching his tone.
He studied me, then nodded toward the house. "Lorenzo's waiting in the study. Said you two have collections in the eastern quarter."
My heart quickened at Lorenzo's name. I kept my face neutral. "Any special instructions today?"
"Just the usual. Don't make a mess unless it's necessary." Paolo's eyes lingered on me. "Lorenzo seems to think you have a way with words. Cleaner than broken fingers, he says."
"I can break fingers if needed."
"I know." A thin smile crossed his face. "That's why you're still breathing."
