LOGIN**DANTE**
Lucia's bakery opened at six AM. I made sure Alessandro was awake at five. Dark circles under his eyes, hands shaking as he tied his shoes.
"Coffee?" he asked quietly.
"No time. We're late already."
"You said six."
"I changed my mind. Move faster." I headed for the door. "And Alessandro? Lucia doesn't know about the marriage yet. I'm telling her today. With you there."
His face went pale but he followed me out.
The drive took twenty minutes. Making him walk yesterday had been excessive, but he'd questioned me in front of Tommy. I couldn't have that.
"Lucia knew my whole family. Watched my sisters grow up." I pulled up outside the bakery. "And you've been sending her money for years. Did you think I wouldn't find out?"
His jaw tightened. "I was trying to help."
"You were trying to ease your guilt. There's a difference."
The bakery smelled like bread and cinnamon. Lucia looked up when we entered and froze.
"Dante." Her voice was careful.
"This is Alessandro Santoro. I think you've been receiving payments from him." I kept my grip on his arm. "I'm marrying him. In three months. Strategic alliance between the families."
Lucia stared at me. "You're what?"
"Marrying him. Marco arranged it. Legal binding, permanent peace."
"You're marrying the son of the man who killed your family." She came around the counter, eyes blazing. "Your mother would be ashamed."
"My mother's dead. She doesn't get a vote." I released Alessandro's arm. "He's been sending you money for five years. He wasn't even there when it happened. His brother beat him unconscious when he tried to leave."
"So he's weak. That doesn't make him innocent."
"He's my problem now." I looked at Alessandro. "I wanted you to meet him before the wedding. You're the only family I have left."
Lucia studied Alessandro. "Why'd you send the money?"
"Because I couldn't fix what happened. But I could help with what came after." His voice was steady. "I'm sorry. I know that doesn't matter."
"You're right. It doesn't." She turned to me. "You trust him?"
"No. But I'm using him. There's a difference."
Alessandro flinched. Lucia noticed.
"He knows you're using him?"
"He knows everything. That I hate him, that this is a strategy, that the marriage means nothing." I smiled. "He agreed anyway. Didn't you, Alessandro?"
"Yes."
"The wedding's in three months. You're invited."
"The money you sent helped more people than you know," Lucia said to Alessandro. "I figured out who was sending it two years ago. Been watching you since then. You go to Dr. Elena for panic attacks. Your brother broke your ribs last year."
"How do you know all that?"
"Elena and I are friends." Lucia looked at me. "He's more broken than you think."
"I'm aware."
"I'll come to the wedding. Someone needs to make sure you don't kill each other." She caught my arm. "Your mother married into this life. She hated it. Don't become the thing she was trying to protect you from."
I pulled away. "Too late for that."
Outside, Alessandro leaned against the car. "That went well."
"She didn't shoot you." I unlocked the doors. "Get in. We're meeting Father Giuseppe next."
"I was almost a priest," Alessandro said as we drove.
That stopped me. "What?"
"Before Florence. I was studying theology. I thought I could escape the family by taking vows. My father sent Nico to bring me home."
I processed this. Alessandro had almost been a priest.
"Why'd you give it up?"
"My father said the family needed me more than God did. I tried to go back once, but Father Giuseppe told me I wasn't suited for it anymore. That I'd seen too much, done too much."
"Done too much? What did you do?"
He looked at me, something dark in his eyes. "What do you think? I'm a Santoro."
"Tell me."
"I've killed people. Three of them. My father made me pull the trigger to prove my loyalty." His hands shook. "I threw up after each one. But I did it because the alternative was Nico doing worse to me."
"And you paint the fire because of guilt."
"I paint it because it's the only thing I see when I close my eyes. Your family, my victims, everyone I couldn't save. It all burns together." He looked at me. "Guilt is the only thing keeping me human. Without it, I'd be just like Nico."
We pulled up outside the church. I sat there for a moment.
"The three people you killed. Did they deserve it?"
"Yes. They were criminals, traitors. But that doesn't make it right that I was the one who killed them."
Father Giuseppe was arranging flowers. He turned when we entered.
"Dante. I heard about the marriage." He studied Alessandro. "You're Vittorio's youngest. I heard your confession once. You told me you wanted to die."
Alessandro didn't deny it. "I still do sometimes."
"And you're marrying Dante anyway."
"I'm doing what my family requires."
Giuseppe looked at me. "You're marrying him for revenge?"
"I'm marrying him because Marco ordered it. The revenge is just a bonus."
"I'm doing the ceremony because backing out would start a war. But I'm not blessing this union. I can't bless something built on hate." Giuseppe's expression was sad. "Your family would've wanted you to be happy. Not just alive."
I left without answering. In the car, Alessandro spoke.
"Do you ever think about what they'd want? Your family?"
"Every day."
"And this is what they'd want? You destroying yourself to destroy me?"
I started the car. "They'd want justice. This is the closest I can get."
"Justice and revenge aren't the same thing."
"In my world, they are."
We drove back in silence. Marco was waiting.
"Vittorio collapsed this morning. He's in the hospital. Might not make it through the week."
Alessandro's phone rang. Nico's name on the screen.
"Answer it," I ordered. "Put it on speaker."
Nico's voice came through, urgent and angry. "Alessandro, get back here now. Father's dying and he's asking for you. If you're not here in an hour, I'm coming to get you myself."
I grabbed the phone. "He's not going anywhere without me."
"Who the hell is this?"
"Dante Moretti. Your brother's fiancé. If Vittorio wants to see him, we both come. Or neither of us do."
The line went silent. Then Nico laughed, cold and mean.
"Bring him then. But Dante? When our father dies, this alliance dies with him. And I'm coming for you first.”
**DANTE**Lucia's bakery opened at six AM. I made sure Alessandro was awake at five. Dark circles under his eyes, hands shaking as he tied his shoes."Coffee?" he asked quietly."No time. We're late already.""You said six.""I changed my mind. Move faster." I headed for the door. "And Alessandro? Lucia doesn't know about the marriage yet. I'm telling her today. With you there."His face went pale but he followed me out.The drive took twenty minutes. Making him walk yesterday had been excessive, but he'd questioned me in front of Tommy. I couldn't have that."Lucia knew my whole family. Watched my sisters grow up." I pulled up outside the bakery. "And you've been sending her money for years. Did you think I wouldn't find out?"His jaw tightened. "I was trying to help.""You were trying to ease your guilt. There's a difference."The bakery smelled like bread and cinnamon. Lucia looked up when we entered and froze."Dante." Her voice was careful."This is Alessandro Santoro. I think yo
**ALESSANDRO**The first week living with Dante was a lesson in controlled hostility. He made rules for everything. When I could eat, where I could go, who I could speak to. He watched me constantly, looking for weakness.Dinner every night at seven was mandatory. Marco joined us most evenings while Dante sat across from me radiating contempt. Tommy tried to lighten the mood with jokes that fell flat. I mostly pushed food around my plate."You're not eating again," Dante said on the fifth night. "That's going to be a problem.""I'm not hungry.""I don't care. You eat what's put in front of you. I'm not having people say I'm starving my fiancé.""Since when do you care what people say?"His eyes went cold. "Since it reflects on me. Eat."I picked up my fork just to end the conversation."How are you settling in, Alessandro?" Marco asked."Fine, thank you.""He barely leaves his room," Dante said. "Paint all day and night.""I'll open a window.""You'll paint less. You're here to integr
**DANTE**Marco was waiting in my apartment when I got back from Sofia's casino. He sat in my chair, drinking my whiskey, looking like he was deciding whether to kill me or just break a few bones."You put your hands on a Santoro at a peace talk." He said it quietly. That's how I knew he was furious. Marco only got quiet when he was ready to do violence."I saw the ring.""I don't care if you saw God himself. You don't sabotage years of planning because you can't control yourself." He stood up. "I should cut you loose right now.""Then do it.""Don't test me, Dante."We stared at each other. Finally, Marco sat back down. "Sofia called with a proposal. A marriage alliance between you and Alessandro Santoro."I laughed. "That's insane.""It's brilliant. A legal marriage means shared assets, shared interests. Neither family can move against the other without destroying themselves.""I'm not marrying a Santoro.""Yes, you are. Because I'm ordering you to. And because it's the perfect posi
**ALESSANDRO**The bruises on my throat were already forming when I got home. I could see them in the bathroom mirror, dark fingerprints that would be impossible to hide tomorrow. Dante Moretti had strong hands. Strong enough to kill me if he'd wanted to. The strange thing was, I'd almost wanted him to."Let me see." Dr. Elena appeared in the doorway without knocking. She never knocked. After five years of patching up my family's violence, she'd earned that right.I tilted my head back so she could examine the damage. Her fingers were clinical, professional. "You're lucky he didn't crush your windpipe.""I don't feel lucky.""No, I imagine you don't." She pulled out her stethoscope. "Breathe."I obeyed while she listened, then checked my pupils, my ribs, the old scars on my back that never quite faded. She'd seen all of it before. Every time Nico decided I needed a lesson in family loyalty. Every time my father's disappointment turned physical."You didn't fight back," she said finall
**DANTE**"You're sure it's them?"Marco's voice cut through the smoke in his office. I stared at the photographs spread across his desk. Vittorio Santoro. Nico Santoro. And a younger one I didn't recognize."The Santoros requested the meeting themselves. Sofia's casino, two hours." I kept my voice steady even though my hands wanted to shake. Five years I'd waited for this. Five years of learning, planning, becoming someone my family wouldn't recognize."And you're going to sit there and talk peace with the men who killed your family?" Marco lit a cigar, watching me carefully. He'd found me half-dead from grief and stupidity five years ago, turned me into something useful. I owed him everything, but that didn't mean he owned my choices."I'm going to gather information. See what they want.""Information." He said it like he didn't believe me. "Dante, I took you in because you were smart. Don't make me regret that by doing something stupid tonight."I met his eyes. "My father was worki







