Page 124 of Pietro
Just my name, but the way she says it makes past-me finally look at her. Really look.
"You can't keep avoiding them."
"Watch me."
That little eye roll she does when I'm being difficult. "The mighty Don Sartori, afraid of a business meeting?"
"Afraid?" Past-me stands, closing the distance between them. "I'm not afraid of anything."
"Liar."
The word hangs between them, charged with meaning. Then past-me kisses her, quick and possessive, before pulling back.
"Fine. Keep the meeting."
Her smile could light up the entire South Side. "Was that so hard?"
"You have no idea."
The footage continues but I rewind. Play it again. That kiss.
Before I let her sacrifice herself.
The door opens. No knock. Only Giulia. She sets a tray on the desk. Soup. Bread. The same food she brought me after Pablo’s funeral.
"Eat." Her voice is iron.
"Not hungry."
"I didn't ask." Her hand lands on my good shoulder, a small, solid weight in the chaos. "I said, you eat."
On the monitor, the kiss plays on repeat.
"She's strong," Giulia’s voice is soft, the tone she used when I was a boy. "Stronger than you give her credit for. She'll survive until you reach her."
The words I've been avoiding claw their way up my throat. "What if she doesn't want to be reached?"
Giulia's grip tightens. "What?"
"What if going back to him—" I can't finish. The possibility that Nora might choose him, might remember who she was before me, it's acid in my veins.
"Stop." Giulia grips my face between her palms, forcing me to meet her eyes. "That girl is in love with you. I see it every time she looks at you, Pietro. Don't insult that by doubting it now."
"You don't understand. She gave herself up. Walked right to him."
"To save you," Giulia says. "Not because she wanted to leave, but because she couldn't bear to watch people die."
A knock interrupts us. Nico enters without waiting for permission, Lorenzo and Vittoria behind him.
"We need more information," Nico says without preamble. "What exactly happened between Declan and Nora? You said she ran from Boston, but we need details."
I turn from the monitors. Every bone in my body is a stone, dragging me toward the floor. Only the rage keeps me upright.
"He was her fiancé." The words feel like glass shards in my throat. I push them out. "Three years. Then she found out he was a rat. Feeding information to the Murphys about her own father."
"And?" Lorenzo prompts, his voice quiet.
"And she confronted him." I stalk to the window, unable to stay still. "So he tried to kill her. She got away, but her father... he blamed her. Called her a disgrace for bringing a traitor into the fold. So she ran."
