Gianna Moretti POV
The underground parking garage was damp and cold, the sound of the downpour above echoing off the concrete ramps.
I stood in the shadow of a concrete pillar, drawing my coat around me.
A few yards away, Julian held Siena in his arms. She was sobbing into his chest, her expensive red dress soaked and clinging to her body in the damp air.
"He didn't even look at me," Siena cried, her voice cracking. "He looked at her like he wanted to eat her alive."
Julian stroked her hair. His profile was hard-a stranger to the soft-featured boy I had known in college.
"I told you to be patient," Julian whispered to her. "I'm trying to get you out too. You're not supposed to be in this world, Siena. I never wanted this for you."
My stomach turned. Get you out too. So he was trying to save her. Trying to save me. Trying to be everyone's savior in a world that devoured saviors.
The damp air filled my lungs, a chill that settled deep in my bones.
I turned and walked toward the exit, stepping out into the deluge. The secure mafia district was a ghost town. The rain pasted the thin fabric of my dress to my skin in seconds. I walked through the deserted streets, my mind a blank slate, until the heavy tires of an armored SUV sliced through a puddle beside me, splashing grimy water across the sidewalk.
The passenger door swung open. Julian leaned over from the driver's seat.
"Get in, Gianna," he ordered. "You'll catch your death."
I did not argue. I was too tired for resistance. I climbed into the leather seat and slammed the heavy door shut, the sound sealing us in a sudden, profound silence.
Julian reached into the back seat, grabbed a dark grey blanket, and tossed it onto my lap.
I looked down at the fabric-a custom cashmere blend. My eye caught a small, discreet logo stitched into one corner, and I recognized it. Lorenzo had purchased this exact blanket for Siena three months ago. It must have been left in Julian's car during one of their clandestine meetings, a glaring piece of evidence he hadn't even noticed.
My hands started to shake. The twisted, sick connections of this life were slowly suffocating me.
"So," I said, my voice barely a whisper over the sound of the rain drumming on the roof. "When did you come back to New York? And when did you start trying to protect my husband's mistress?"
Julian's shoe scraped hard against the brake pedal. The heavy SUV jerked to a stop, and the cabin fell into a sudden, suffocating quiet, broken only by the rhythmic scrape of the wipers on the windscreen.
He turned his head toward me, his eyes wide with a flash of panic.
"I am not sleeping with her," Julian said quickly. "Gianna, you don't understand. It's not what you think."
"Stop talking," I cut him off, at last turning my head to meet his gaze. "My two-year war with Lorenzo wasn't because I wanted to hold onto a man who cheated on me. It was because I wanted to punish Siena for thinking she could break the rules of this life and get away with it."
Julian swallowed hard, his knuckles showing white where his hands gripped the steering wheel.
"I know who she is to you, Julian," I said, my voice completely empty. "I saw the forged syndicate documents. I know you share a father. I know she is your illegitimate half-sister."
The words hung in the air between us. The blood drained from Julian's face, leaving the skin taut and pale over his cheekbones.
"She was a pawn," I continued, staring out at the rain washing down the windshield. "Lorenzo knew exactly who she was. He didn't choose her by accident. He chose her because she was connected to you-to my past. His infidelity wasn't a lapse in his obsession for me. It was his sick, twisted jealousy. He used her to punish me for a history he couldn't control."
I grabbed the door handle and pushed it open. The cold wind and rain blasted into the warm cabin.
"We are done, Julian," I said. "My accountant will wire your laundering fee tomorrow morning."
I stepped one foot out into the rain.
Julian lunged across the center console, grabbing my wrist. His grip was painfully tight.
"Gianna, wait," he demanded. "You cut me off years ago. You walked away from me without a single tear. Why? Why did you really leave me?"
I ripped my hand out of his grasp, my skin stinging where his fingers had been.
"If you have a confession to make, take it to the Famiglia priest," I told him coldly. "Keep the lie. Tell everyone you left me."
Julian seized my shoulders, his voice dropping to a desperate, terrified whisper against the storm outside.
"I tried to save her," he confessed. "Siena. She got involved with Lorenzo on her own-she was young and stupid and wanted the glamour of the mafia life. By the time I found out, she was already in too deep. I stayed close to try to get her out. And when I saw what he was doing to you... I thought I could save you both."
I stopped. The rain ran in cold rivulets down my face as I looked back at him, a figure framed in the warm, dry interior of the vehicle.
"Did she know she was being used?" I asked, my voice cutting through the sound of the rain. "Did your sister actually fall in love with the man you're trying to pull her away from?"
Julian did not answer. He just stared at me, his jaw trembling. His silence was the loudest confession I had ever heard.
I let out a bitter laugh, wiping the rain from my eyes.
"You're a fool, Julian," I warned him softly. "Even if Lorenzo is free, a pawn like Siena will never survive the Boss's approval to marry a Capo. And even if you pull her out, she may not want to be saved."
I slammed the heavy door and walked away into the dark, rain-swept street, leaving the armored car and the man inside it behind me.
