Page 54 of Broken Vows

I take the private elevator up, each floor taking me closer to facing a traitor who should be an ally, a brother who should act like family.

Marco's already in Dad's office when I arrive, feet propped on the mahogany desk like he owns the place.

He's wearing a three-piece suit that probably costs more than most people make in a month. But his appearance is sloppy—twisted collar, hair a mess.

He looks like a man under pressure.

"Vincent." He doesn't look up from the financial documents spread across the desk. “What ‘emergency’ are you and Dad going to bitch about now?”

"Cut the shit, Marco." I close the door behind me, engaging the electronic lock that ensures no surveillance, no interruptions. "We need to talk."

"About what? Your pregnant girlfriend? Your sudden alliance with our enemies?" He finally meets my eyes, and I see something I've never noticed before—real hatred, burning cold and focused. "Or maybe about how you've been investigating your own family?"

The admission hits like a physical blow. He knows I've been digging into the financial records, tracking the money trail that leads directly to his accounts.

"Six months of payments to Perezzi operations," I say, pulling out my phone and displaying Davide's findings. "Shell companies, offshore transfers, weapons purchases. You've been financing a war against your own family."

Marco's feet hit the floor with a sharp crack against marble. "Interesting hypothesis."

"Bank records. Surveillance photos. Communication intercepts." I set the evidence on the desk between us, watching his face for any hint of denial. "You orchestrated the attacks on Melinda. You compromised her medical records. You've been working with the Perezzis to destabilize both families."

Marco examines his manicured nails with theatrical indifference. "You know what I love about you, Vincent? Your imagination. Always seeing conspiracies where there's just... business."

The non-denial hits harder than any confession could. Part of me hoped I was wrong, that my brother hadn't betrayed everything we'd built together.

"Why?" The word comes out rough, thick with emotions I've spent years suppressing.

"Why what?" Marco's smile is razor-thin. "Why would I want to protect this family from making a catastrophic mistake? Why would I be concerned about our traditions being... diluted?"

He stands, moving around the desk. "Dad's been grooming you for leadership since we were kids. The smart one, the strategic one, the son who understands the modern world. But you know what you don't understand, Vincent?"

"Enlighten me."

"Fear. Respect. The kind of loyalty that only comes from knowing what happens when you cross the Russo legacy." His voice drops to a whisper. "You've forgotten what we are. What this family was built on."

"We're killers, Marco. We've always been killers. But being smart about it doesn't make us weak."

"Doesn't it?" He pulls out his phone, showing me surveillance photos of Melinda leaving the hospital. "Your precious doctor girlfriend, walking around unprotected, carrying your bastard child. You think love makes you stronger? It makes you fucking vulnerable."

The rage that's been building in my chest finally explodes. I have him against the wall before he can react, forearm pressed against his throat, watching his eyes widen with something that might be fear.

"You threatened my child," I growl. "My family."

"Our family," he gasps. "She's not family. She's Mastroni poison, and that thing growing inside her is going to destroy everything Dad built."

I press harder, feeling his pulse flutter against my arm. "That thing is your nephew. My blood."

"Your mistake." His voice comes out strangled but defiant. "You think mixing bloodlines makes us stronger? It makes us weak. Divided loyalties, split allegiances. A Russo-Mastroni child doesn't unite our families—it gives every rival in the city a target."

"So you decided to eliminate the threat."

"I decided to protect what matters." He claws at my arm, but I don't relent. "The Perezzi family was happy to help. They hate the Mastronis almost as much as they fear us."

"And the medical records? How did you access Melinda's private information?"

Marco shrugs, examining the family photos on Dad's desk. "Information has a way of finding interested parties, doesn't it? Especially when people are... motivated to share."

The admission sends ice through my veins. He's been watching her, tracking her medical care, violating her privacy in the most intimate way possible. The pregnancy she's trying to protect, the child we're both fighting to keep safe—he's turned it into a weapon.

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