"Really. I mean, I'm still pissed at you. And I still think this whole situation is fucked up. But... I miss you too."
Relief floods her face, and for a moment she looks like the sister I remember from before Vito, before the marriage, before everything got so complicated.
"Can we find a way to make this work?" she asks. "I can't change what Vito decides, but maybe I can help make it more bearable. Maybe I can talk to him about giving you more freedom, more choices within the constraints."
"Like what?"
"I don't know yet. But we'll figure it out. Together."
I study her face, looking for any sign that this is just another manipulation, another way to keep me compliant. But all I see is my sister—tired, worried, and genuinely trying to bridge the gap between us.
"Okay," I say finally. "We can try. But Rina, if you ever choose him over me again?—"
"I won't," she says quickly. "I'll find a way to support you that doesn't undermine everything, but I won't abandon you again. I promise."
It's not perfect. It doesn't fix everything that's broken between us, and it doesn't change the fact that I'm still essentially a prisoner. But it's something. It's a start.
"Good," I say. "Because I'm going to need someone on my side when I figure out how to get out of this mess."
"Sofia—"
"I'm not giving up, Rina. I can't. But... maybe I can be smarter about it. More strategic."
She looks worried, but she nods. "Just promise me you'll be careful. Whatever you're planning, don't do anything that will get you killed."
"I promise." I glance back through the glass doors at the dinner party happening inside. "Now come on. Let's go back before someone notices we're having an actual conversation and decides to break it up."
As we head back inside, I catch Dante's eye across the room. He raises an eyebrow in question, probably wondering if he needs to intervene in some sister drama. I give him a slight shake of my head, and he relaxes.
The party is in full swing now—if you can call a bunch of middle-aged men in expensive suits nursing whiskey and talking business a party. Olga is holding court near the kitchen, gesticulating wildly as she tells some story that has the wives laughing. Vito is deep in conversation with a couple of capos by the windows.
And there's a bar cart.
I make my way over to it, surveying the options. Whiskey, gin, vodka... and a bottle of red wine that looks expensive enough to be worth trying. I've never been explicitly told I can'tdrink—probably because no one thought an eighteen-year-old would be bold enough to help herself at a family gathering.
But tonight feels like the right kind of night to get a little tipsy.
I pour myself a generous glass, the wine dark and rich as it swirls in the crystal. The first sip is bitter, then warm, spreading through my chest like liquid courage. The second sip is easier. By the third, I'm starting to understand why adults seem to enjoy this so much.
I can feel Dante's eyes on me from across the room. When I glance his way, he's got that look—the one that says he's calculating whether or not to intervene. I raise my glass slightly in his direction, a silent challenge.
His jaw tightens, but he doesn't move.
Good. Let him watch.
I take another sip, larger this time, and let myself drift through the room. The wine is making everything feel softer around the edges, less sharp. The conversation seems more interesting, the laughter more genuine. Maybe this is how Rina manages to tolerate these family gatherings.
I'm making my way toward the balcony for some air when I collide with someone. Wine sloshes dangerously close to the rim of my glass.
"Whoa there," Marco says, steadying me with a hand on my shoulder. "Careful."
"Sorry," I say, looking up at him with what I hope is an apologetic smile. Marco is... well, he's attractive enough. Dark hair, sharp features, probably in his early thirties. And from the corner of my eye, I can see Dante's attention has shifted from casual observation to laser focus.
Perfect.
"No harm done," Marco replies, already starting to step away.
But the wine has made me bold, and Dante's intense stare from across the room has made me reckless. This is too good an opportunity to pass up.
