Page 281 of Legacy

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My spine straightens.

Silvio’s gaze meets mine. “He knew Korsakov was involved. But he wouldn’t turn on the little shit. So I did something... unforgivable.”

A flicker of dread pulses behind my ribs.

“What did you do?” I ask, my voice flat.

Silvio doesn’t flinch. “I’m the one who maimed Conti.”

The name hits me like a gunshot.

Nico.

Adrenaline pumps quickly through me.

Adriana’s hand presseshardagainst my shoulder.

That’s when I realize, I was about to lunge.

I shut my eyes. I inhale.

Settle.

Silvio keeps going. “If someone could confirm the connection between Korsakov and Sarkisian, Marcello would’ve been forced to implicate him. It wouldn’t fall solely on Cosa Nostra. But Nico wouldn’t break. Loyal little bastard.”

I whisper it, barely:

“Does he know it was you?”

Silvio nods. “He knows. But he thought your father ordered it and I did not tell him otherwise. He’s a good soldier.”

Yeah.

Yeah, he is

Too good.

I study Silvio. The man I always looked at as an uncle. Who carved a legacy out of blood and silence. And now, the one asking for judgment.

“You tell me this,” I say slowly, “because you want me to pass judgment on you?”

Silvio nods once. Steady. Accepting.

I take a breath. It burns.

“I’ll leave the choice to Nico,” I say. “But I’ll give you a twenty-four-hour head start.”

His expression doesn’t change. He only bows his head. “Grazie, Don.”

Adriana’s hand never leaves my shoulder.

Not as Silvio leaves.

Not as I hang my head.

Not as I break under the weight of it all.

He knew. My father knew.

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