Chapter 4

Matteo turned to the final page of the document. Control of the port would pass to a company chosen by the Vitale family. Gianna would be handed over and taken to Sicily to "assist with the Vitale family's investigation." The agreement said nothing about when she'd be released or what Adrian planned to inject.

My father could no longer get out a full sentence. When he saw his own name, he reached out with two fingers and pushed the paper away. Its edge caught in a gap in the table before it fell to the floor.

"Vittorio." Luca leaned down. "You're in no shape to lead this family right now."

My mother answered before my father could. "You can have the territory. You can't have my daughters."

"Do you have the authority to speak for Don Moretti?" Luca asked. My mother took my father's still-stiff hand in hers and held the paper where he could see it. My father pushed the document away again, and this time the corner brushed Luca's sleeve. I had never heard my mother mention the casino shares in front of the eight families. She usually talked about how many beds the hospital had. Tonight, though, she listed those shares one by one, as if she were counting out everything she was ready to lose.

Paolo frowned at Luca, as if he too thought that hauling someone off to Sicily before anything had been proven was going too far. But he remained seated. The eight families sat at the same long table, each waiting for someone else to speak first.

Dante cut the lights.

Someone in the ballroom screamed. Lorenzo pushed Gianna and me toward the kitchen, with my mother close behind us, while Nico stayed with my father. I heard plates crash to the floor and quick, sharp footsteps. A few seconds later, the emergency light above the back door flickered on, revealing the silhouettes of the men guarding it.

Luca had anticipated our escape route. His men had herded the waiters and a few medical center staff members into the middle of the hallway, using them to block the door. Lorenzo raised his gun, then lowered it. The young waiter who'd poured our water was standing directly in his line of fire.

When the lights came back on, Gianna pulled free of my mother's arms and walked up to Luca.

"I'll go with you," she said. "Let Dad go to the hospital. Let them leave."

Luca immediately had someone bring out a second handover agreement, as if he'd expected someone to offer herself up to buy time. Gianna saw the paper but didn't back down. Her hand was ice-cold when I took it.

For two years, whenever someone called me "the little mute," Gianna was always the first to turn around. Now she was putting herself in the line of fire.

That was when I realized the hardest part of protecting someone: I couldn't make her decisions for her, but I still had to tell her when I disagreed.

My mother called out Gianna's name. I lunged forward and grabbed her hand again. Gianna looked back and gave me a smile, but it was forced. I signed, "No."

"Evie," she said softly, "once he's safe, we'll figure this out."

Lorenzo stepped in front of her. "You're not going anywhere."

Matteo snapped his briefcase shut. "I'm not writing a legal opinion that blesses a kidnapping."

Dante spoke into his earpiece, telling everyone to fall back and not touch the guests. Nico looked up from my father's side, his voice colder than I'd ever heard it. "If you take her, I won't sign off on that injection as medical care."

My father lifted his hand and reached for Gianna. My mother took it and told Luca, "You can have the port, the casinos, all the protection you want. You can't have either of my daughters."

When I first came home, I was always afraid they protected me only because we shared blood. Tonight, they still had no idea what I could do, yet they'd chosen to protect Gianna just as fiercely.

The smile slowly faded from Luca's face. He tapped the medical kit and signaled Adrian to go ahead.

Adrian took hold of my father's arm. The clear liquid in the syringe shifted under the lights, darker than the traces of wine I'd seen. I'd seen this happen before in Malta. The first dose made you weak. The second made your family believe you'd died because your illness had worsened.

Adrian brought the tip of the needle toward his skin.

Gianna was staring at the needle too. She probably didn't know what the color meant, but she still tried to get past Luca and reach our father. My mother grabbed her and held her back. Lorenzo raised his gun another half inch, and Paolo sat up straight, frowning.

I let go of Gianna's hand and walked over.

"Don't touch him."