“But you’re the one I want.”
“Sometimes we can’t have what we want,” I whispered.
“Not me,” Amo murmured, bringing our faces closer. I looked deeply into his eyes. I loved how quiet my mind got when I did, how peaceful I felt, how in control of everything, especially myself.
“I don’t care about any of this, Greta. I probably won’t even become Capo anymore. My father made it very clear that I’d have to waive my position if I didn’t marry Cressida.”
He’d give up becoming Capo for me?
The realization that I’d lose this, that I’d lose Amo, ached in the worst way possible.
But I couldn’t be selfish. I had to think of my family, who’d probably start a war if I followed Amo, of Nevio who’d become completely unhinged without me by his side, of Amo and his family who needed someone else. Amo couldn’t see it because he idealized me, because his feelings for me made him blind to the truth, to my limitations. I had to be the one making the hard decision, the one that would save so many, even Amo. Maybe even myself because Amo would come to despise me if he gave up becoming Capo for me.
“I won’t leave my family, Amo. I owe them everything and I love them more than anything else. If I have to choose between them and you, it’ll always be them. And if you really think about it, you’ll choose your family too.”
I could see the hurt in Amo’s eyes, the lack of understanding. “You know what’s between us. Don’t pretend you don’t feel it. I see how you look at me, Greta.”
What was between Amo and me was fateful in so many ways, it was a one in a lifetime love, a miracle. I would never love anyone as I loved him. I’d known it from the moment I’d looked into his eyes even when I hadn’t dared admitting it to myself, and it had been confirmed in every second that I’d spent with him after that. But our love would be our ruin. I was too logical not to see the consequences of our love. Cressida would play the victim, and most of the Famiglia would side with her. The Traditionalists would condemn Amo for his actions, not just for breaking an engagement, but worse, for being intimate with someone before marriage and then not marrying her. It would hurt the Vitiellos, possibly weaken them, and for them to reestablish power they’d have to react with sheer brutality as they always did.
Amo and his father would torture and kill many to bring what they considered peace over the Famiglia. I’d be the reason for it, for many deaths, for even more heartbreak and sadness.
And my family. Nevio would never accept me leaving Las Vegas, leaving him. I was the anchor he held onto in his eternal dark. Without me, Nevio would give in to darkness, he’d embrace it wholly, would let it swallow him, and his actions in the night would become all that there was to him.
Dad knew it. That he’d lose not only me but Nevio if I ever left our family. He knew what that would mean for Mom. Dad would burn down New York before he’d allow me to marry Amo. Dad wanted to protect us all at any cost, and the Famiglia was a small price in his mind if it meant saving what meant the most to him.
“Greta,” Amo rasped and I peered up into his eyes, scared that they’d break through my resolve, that they’d make me disregard logic.
“I can’t.”
Amo lowered his head to kiss me, as if that could change my mind, and it might very well have succeeded, but I shook my head even if my body ached for his lips, for a last kiss.
Movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention but I was too late to call out a warning, and Amo was too focused on me.
My lips parted, a scream ripping out but everything happened so fast.
Nevio slammed his knife into Amo’s side. Everything seemed to stand still for a moment before Amo pushed me back and impaled his knife into Nevio’s belly in turn.
My heart slowed as I watched Amo and Nevio with knives in their bodies. I registered the positions of the stab wounds and knew if either of them pulled their knife, the other would bleed to death before help could arrive. My heart jolted and seemed to race at impossible speed. I heard steps thundering toward us, saw Nino and Fabiano bolting our way, but knew they might be too late. I knew the look in Nevio’s eyes too well.
I stumbled toward Amo and Nevio. They stared at each other, still holding onto their respective knife. They were too experienced fighters not to know what would happen if they pulled their knives. “Don’t. Do not move,” I said thickly. I locked eyes with Nevio and his lips twisted into a grin.
“Nevio,” I warned. “You’ll both die.”
“If it means he won’t ever get to touch you again, I’ll gladly bleed to death.” I should have never asked Nevio if he’d ever leave our family, never mentioned falling in love. My brother was too intelligent to not make the connections and act upon them.
Amo brought his face close to Nevio’s with a harsh smile. “I guess it must be hard for a crazy fucker like yourself to know that your sister loves me, that I kissed her.”
I wanted to cry. How could love be this destructive? I grabbed Nevio’s hand before he could pull the knife out. “Nevio, don’t,” I begged.
Amo smiled darkly.
Nino appeared by our side, something in his hand and he rammed a syringe into Nevio’s neck. Nevio’s eyes widened a fraction, his body becoming tense and he passed out, letting go of the knife. Fabiano helped Nino to hold Nevio up.
“If you pull that knife, I’ll slit your throat,” Nino said to Amo.
“I won’t, don’t worry,” Amo said and looked at me as he released the knife slowly and lowered himself to the floor. One of his hands cradled the knife buried in his side, his mouth twisting with pain. Then a sardonic smile stretched his lips. “This doesn’t hurt as badly as you not choosing me.”
I had not not chosen him. I’d chosen peace. I’d chosen my family. I’d chosen saving many lives. I’d chosen Amo becoming Capo…