Page 5 of The Outlaw's Savage Revenge

“Initiative?” he snaps, disgust twisting his features.

I take a steadying breath. “I know you think the app is beneath the family, but we’re at the beta testing stage, and it’sblowing up. I’m even ready to give the family full rights if it means saving Flavia from this marriage.”

Saving me from this marriage.

Papa’s voice turns icy. “You honestly think a disgusting sex app is going to secure the Romano future?”

My fists curl against the cutting words, but I push on. “It’s clean and legitimate—exactly what Don Vitelli is trying to do with the Outfit businesses. No red zones, no pimps, no skimming.”

“Enough!” His fist slams against the table, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

“Even if I lost my mind and entertained this fantasy,” he growls, leaning in, “do you think Vitelli wouldn’t see right through it? Do you think he’d welcome back a pathetic family hiding behind the ideas of a spoiled brat who has no clue what family, duty, or honor mean?”

The words slice deep, but as I open my mouth to argue, Papa raises his hand, silencing me.“You're getting tested tomorrow, and that is final.”

“Tomorrow?” My heart stops. One more day to find out if I’m an asset or a liability. “Papa, you promised it would be my choice.”

“Because I thought you’d be reasonable. But you’ve proven that choice is a luxury beyond your station, so we do it my way.”

It’s useless to keep arguing. In Papa’s world, women are pawns—his daughter included.

“Fine,” I spit, rising to my feet. “I’d better make the most of my last few hours of freedom.”

Resisting the urge to slam the door, I march into the hallway, only to stop short when I nearly collide with Papa’s right-hand man.

“Move,” I snap, trying to brush past him, but his hand clamps around my arm, halting me.

“Whoa, who’s getting incinerated this time?” Clemenza’s voice carries the familiar teasing warmth I never get from Papa.

I whirl, glaring up at him. “Not in the mood, Clemenza.”

He exhales slowly, releasing my arm but refusing to step aside. His dark eyes flicker with something I don’t have the energy or patience to untangle.

“This is about the test, isn’t it?”

There’s no point in lying. He knows everything—he’s Papa’sConsigliereand the only one who occasionally talks sense into him. If anyone could stop this madness, it’s Clemenza.

“Looks like my time’s run out,” I force a lightness I don’t feel, even as my chest feels like it’s collapsing. “I’m to take the test tomorrow.”

His gaze shifts toward the study door, then back to me, regret flickering across his face. “Luna, you knew this day would come.”

“I know.” My throat tightens, but I manage to hold his gaze. “I just . . . I need more time.”

Time for my app to go viral and make me untouchable.

Or time for pigs to grow wings and fly.

Clemenza sighs. “Alright,cara.I’ll talk to him. How does a week sound?”

One week?My heart sinks, but I force a nod and a tight smile before hurrying down the hallway, eyes stinging with unshed tears.

Once the results are out, there’s no going back. Either I’ll be shipped off to Russia or swept into obscurity. My life is as good as over either way.

Right now, not knowing is the only power I have left. And that expires in exactly one week.

I collapse onto the bed, burying my face in a pillow as the tears come fast, burning hot as they soak into the fabric. I press my face in harder, smothering the sobs before they can escape.

Growing up with older cousins who bullied me, I quickly learned never to cry where anyone could hear.

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