L.A

Candice's P.O.V.

The safe house was an old warehouse out in L.A., the type of place that smelled of rust and unfulfilled dreams, and I felt that the concrete walls were closing in on me as we hauled Ryan Harlow inside; his body was limp due to the tranquilizer, his hair was matted with sweat, and Mantovani was holding him by the collar, but he was not vicious, just like it was a package that could explode any time. I stood and watched Conti zip-tie Ryan to a metal chair in the middle of the room, the clicking of the plastic resonating in the empty room, and my heart was racing with the fear and the determination that I had the key to rid us of the sheriff and his terror, but I could not get out of the feeling of guilt that was churning up in me, that Ryan was a just a kid who had gotten involved in the web of his brother. Mantovani glanced at me, his green eyes burning in the low fluorescent lights and drew me to him and kissed me, his lips rough and desperate, and said, Stay strong, piccola; this is ours, it belongs to us, it is our family, and I felt the fire that he touched burn a passion within me that was my anchor in this crazy world.

Ryan took long to wake up and the time was like taffy, and I kept going around the house, feeling my sneakers squeak on the concrete, and Conti kept checking his phone to get updates on Sanna because she was back at the villa, and I had texted him as well, my message only a heart emoji, not wanting to seem to be interested in knowing how my stomach was sinking. Ryan opened his eyes, groaning and blinking in the light, and Mantovani came near him, and with the presence of a storm cloud said in a calm though yet menacing voice, Welcome back, Ryan; your brother sent us a message, and now we're sending it back through you, and Ryan opened his eyes with a dilation between bewilderment and horror as he put together the situation, and tried to loosen the knots to no avail. and I stood in the shadows watching the interrogation commence, and Mantovani leaned forward and his face was a few inches away, and he told Ryan about the bombing of my old school, the threats against my family, and how it all came back to the vendetta of the sheriff, and Ryan paled and his hair stood on end and he stuttered, I know nothing, my brother won't know anything; and my brother keeps me out of it, but Mantovani would not believe it, and his voice dropped to a growl, Everyone knows something, and I want you to

My curiosity was raised when Ryan began speaking, and his words came out in a gush, showing that the sheriff had a spy in our camp, a member of the camp who was too intimate to be true, and my brain started chilling and I started to imagine everyone in the villa, servants, capos, even family, and I felt a shiver run down my spine, and wondered who could be a traitor after all we had done. Mantovani demanded more, his enquiries keen and barbed, and Ryan told me that the sheriff was setting up a great raid on our Miami business in a couple of days, a war strike likely to paralyze us, and as he said so, I beheld that glow in the eyes of Mantovani, the fierceness of his defense which I loved, and at the same time the shadow which scared me, the element of him that would stop at no means to protect me. Conti wrote down notes on his phone and he scowled and I moved to him and my voice was even though my hands were shaking and I asked Ryan why does your brother hate us so much? Is it business, or is there a personal thing? and Ryan stared into my face, with a mixture of resentment and grief, and he said, Your family killed my father years ago, that it was not merely war, but revenge, and that was the blow that struck me like a blow to the stomach, to match the old tales that Sanna had told me, and I knew this had not been merely war, it was vengeance, and it was blood that could eat us all.

When the interrogation ended Mantovani motioned Conti to write the message a video of Ryan begging his brother to stand down, or face the consequences and I felt the passion that had united us and I kissed him and his hands were touching my waist, and I said, I can not lose you in this and promise me we will find a way out, and he said back, You make me everything, Candice; we will fight this together, and the passion between us surged and it was like the one time we had made love in the middle of that mess. But as we parted, the telephone of Conti was ringing with an important message of Sanna--the mole had struck, and the villa was in arms, and Mom was in danger--and my heart sank, and the world had closed in to that one dreadful idea.