Page 150 of Rosetti Family New York
“Now,” Rafe says, stepping closer, “you earn it. Day by day.”
Emilio chimes in without looking up from his phone. “You’re not going anywhere, right? You’re kind of infamous now.”
Leo smirks. “Infamous is our brand.”
Matteo grins. “Besides, we’d be idiots to waste a woman who can shoot like that.”
I almost smile, almost let myself believe I’m forgiven. "In the theater, I wanted to show you I’m loyal."
Sal studies me, his expression unreadable. "Your father would call it betrayal."
"My father," I say, "doesn’t know the meaning of loyalty."
Dom takes my hand, his grip strong, reassuring. "She’s not on his side anymore."
There’s another pause, and I wonder if they hear how fast my heart is racing.
Emilio taps the table. "We owe her."
"And Dushku blood or not," Matteo adds, spinning his coin, "she’s one of us."
Rafe gives a reluctant nod. "Agreed."
Sal looks around the room, then back at me. "Welcome to the family. For real, this time."
I release a breath. They’ve let me in, these men bound by something more powerful than blood. They’ll trust me, and I won’t let them down.
"And Iride?" Rafe asks, the focus shifting. "Is it dead too?"
The room goes silent. This is the question that matters most, and everyone knows it.
"Clara’s dead," Dom says, his voice tight. "So is her work. We’re buying up what we can of ixaphorine, but without the chemist or the records—"
"We have nothing," Matteo finishes, grimacing as he slips the coin back into his pocket.
I’ve waited for this moment, not knowing how they’d react, hoping they’d trust me enough. I reach into my bag and place a thick folder on the table. All eyes go to it.
Rafe snatches it up, flipping it open. "The hell is this?"
"The formula," I say, watching them carefully. "For Iride. Clara gave it to me when I visited the lab."
Emilio leans in, his gaze sharpening. "The real thing?"
"She wanted to make sure that it didn’t die with her. I guess she knew that was a possibility," I say.
"And you wanted to make sure you had the intel," Sal says slowly.
"I didn’t give this to my father," I say, looking around the table, meeting each of their eyes. "I want to build it with you."
There’s a beat, then another. The room seems to hold its breath. It’s everything they need to finish making Iride.
Dom’s grip on my hand tightens, and a smile ghosts his lips. "So?" he says. "Looks like we have a plan. We find another chemist, we rebuild the lab, we take this thing to market."
"Looks like it," Rafe says, still thumbing through the pages. There’s something like respect in his voice now, a grudging acknowledgment that I’m one of them.
"Adrian is smart," Matteo says, "but not smarter than this family."
"And this family," Emilio adds, "is back in business."
