"Rina usually is."
"Sofia's not just her sister. She's family. My family." He turns back to me, and for the first time since this whole mess started, I see the man who took in a broken thirteen-year-old kid and gave him purpose. "I forgot that. Got so caught up in playing the game that I forgot why we play it in the first place."
"To protect the people we love."
"To protect the people we love," he repeats. "Even when they're too stubborn to let us."
I set down my gun, studying his face. "You know there's a good chance we don't all make it back from this."
"I know."
"And you're okay with that? With me potentially dying for her?"
Vito's expression hardens, but not with anger—with resolve. "Dante, I've watched you for fifteen years. Seen you take bullets, break bones, spill blood for this family without question. ButI've never seen you willing to burn the whole world down for anyone."
He steps closer. "That kind of love—the kind that makes you choose someone over everything else you've ever known—that's worth fighting for. Worth dying for, if it comes to that."
Something loosens in my chest, a knot I didn't realize was there. "So we're good?"
"We're good." He opens his arms, and for a second we're not the Don and his enforcer. We're just a father and son who almost lost each other over pride and fear.
The hug is brief but solid, the kind that says everything we can't put into words.
"Besides," I say, pulling back with a grin, "if I die saving Sofia, you'll have to deal with Rina's wrath all by yourself. And we both know how that ends."
Vito actually laughs. "She'd probably find a way to bring you back just so she could kill you herself."
The door opens and Rina herself walks in, as if summoned by our conversation. She takes one look at us and raises an eyebrow.
"Ready to crash a wedding and rescue my sister?"
"Yes," I confirm, checking my weapons one more time.
"Good." She crosses her arms, giving me a look that's pure determination. "Because I have something to say to you, Dante Mancini."
Here it comes. The lecture about keeping Sofia safe, about bringing her home, about?—
"Thank you," she says simply. "For loving my sister the way she deserves to be loved. For choosing her even when it was hard."
I swallow past the sudden tightness in my throat. "She chose me first."
"I know. But you chose her back." Rina's smile is fierce, proud. "Now go get her."
The others file back in, Elena looking between Vito and me with obvious satisfaction.
"Everyone ready?" Marco asks, shouldering his gear.
I holster my gun, feeling lighter than I have in days. Sofia's out there, probably scared, definitely pissed off, waiting for someone to remember that she's worth more than any peace treaty or political alliance.
"Let's go crash a wedding," I say.
Elena grins. "My favorite kind of party."
CHAPTER 32
Sofia
The bridal suiteis a flurry of activity when they bring me in. Blue and white flowers with sage accents are draped everywhere, trying to mask the Gothic interior of what's clearly an old church room. A stunning wedding dress hangs against the wall—white bodice shifting to pale blue with flowing sleeves and delicate embroidery.
