If my body finally gave out, Isabella and the boy would be devoured. My father would use her as a pawn, and the Gallos would slaughter them for the Brooklyn docks. I could not let that happen. I was her husband-to-be. I was still a Moretti.
"Enzo," I rasped, the sound tearing at my dry throat. "Paper. Pen."
Enzo moved silently, retrieving a heavy fountain pen and a sheet of parchment from the desk. He placed them on the tray across my lap.
My right hand was stiff, the muscles atrophied and trembling as I gripped the pen. Agony flared up my arm, but I forced my shattered nerves to obey. I wrote a *testamento* (will). It was a direct, undeniable order. If I died, Enzo was to immediately unlock my hidden Swiss accounts-two hundred thousand dollars the Don didn't know about-and mobilize my remaining loyal Soldiers. Their only mission: escort Isabella and Luca Falcone out of New York to a safe house in Europe, ensuring their absolute safety for the rest of their lives.
I finished the signature, my chest heaving from the exertion, and pushed the paper toward my Enforcer.
"My final Underboss command," I told him, my voice dropping to a lethal gravel.
Enzo took the paper. He didn't read it. He simply folded it and placed it over his heart. "I will defend this order with my life, Underboss."
I leaned back against the pillows, the darkness of the room no longer feeling like a grave. I was no longer just waiting to die. I was setting the board.
*
Isabella POV
The frantic phone call from my driver shattered the quiet of the following afternoon. I barely remembered the cab ride to St. Ignatius Academy. I burst through the wrought-iron gates of the school courtyard, my heart hammering violently against my ribs.
And then I saw him.
Leo Gallo. He had my six-year-old brother pinned to the cobblestones near the statue of the Virgin Mary. Luca's lip was split, blood trickling down his pale forehead, but his dark eyes blazed with pure Falcone defiance.
"Tell them the truth, you little bastard!" Leo roared, his face purple with a manic, humiliated rage. He shook Luca by the collar. "Tell them your whore sister started the rumors! I am no *cornuto* (cuckold)!"
Angelica Russo stood a few feet away, her arms crossed, watching the assault with cold satisfaction. The rumors of her infidelity had already reached the Five Families, and Leo, too cowardly to confront the real threats, was taking his emasculation out on a child.
Luca spat a mixture of blood and saliva at Leo's polished shoes. "You are a coward who doesn't deserve honor."
Leo snapped. He reached into his tailored jacket and pulled a switchblade, pressing the steel toward Luca's small throat.
I screamed, sprinting across the manicured grass, but a shadow moved faster than I ever could.
Enzo Romano materialized like a demon from the ether. He didn't shout. He didn't hesitate. With a sickening crack, Enzo's heavy boot connected with Leo's wrist. The knife clattered across the stones as Enzo shoved the Capo backward, sending Leo crashing into the dirt.
I dropped to my knees, pulling Luca into my chest. He was shaking violently, his small hands gripping my coat, but he refused to cry. I kissed his bloody forehead, a lethal, freezing calm washing over my panic. Enzo stood between us and the Gallos, an immovable wall of black suit and silent violence.
I stood up, my hand slipping beneath the slit of my skirt to the thigh holster. The *stiletto* (dagger) slid free, the six-inch blade catching the late afternoon sun.
Leo scrambled backward, clutching his rapidly swelling wrist. "Isabella, be reasonable," he stammered, his bravado vanishing the moment he faced actual steel. "I was supposed to be your brother-in-law. The boy was disrespecting-"
"Shut your mouth," I cut him off, my voice dropping to an icy whisper that carried across the courtyard. I stepped around Enzo, the tip of my blade pointed directly at Leo's chest. "This is not over, Leo. This is a Vendetta. You touched my blood. I will burn your family to the ground."