Page 434 of Rosetti Family New York
"You know why you're here," I say, voice calm as still water. The words echo off concrete, carrying no heat, no emotion. Just facts.
Marco lifts his head with effort, good eye focusing on me with something that might be regret. Blood crusts his split lip, makes his words thick. "Matteo, I can explain—"
"No." I cut him off with the kind of quiet authority that stops conversations dead. "Explanations are for people who make mistakes. You made a choice."
He tries again, desperation bleeding through the damage to his face. "He threatened my family. My granddaughter—"
"Is safe." I pull out my phone, show him the photograph my men took an hour ago. His granddaughter at her private school, surrounded by security he doesn't even know exists. "Has been since the moment we learned about the threat. We protect our own, Marco. We always have."
The fight goes out of him then, shoulders sagging against the restraints. Reality settles over him like a shroud, the understanding that his betrayal was unnecessary. That he chose money over loyalty for nothing.
"You didn't just betray me," I continue, each word deliberate as a blade thrust. "You betrayed the future. You sold information that could have gotten Isabella killed. That could have destroyed the alliance that keeps this city stable."
His good eye widens, understanding finally dawning. This isn't about business anymore. This is about the woman who's changed everything, who's made me into someone who thinks beyond immediate satisfaction to long-term consequences.
"That makes you irrelevant," I conclude.
I nod to the guards, and they move with efficient precision. No violence, no dramatics. Just the steady process of removing someone who no longer belongs. Marco will be driven to the airport, put on a plane to a city where no family operates, givenenough money to survive but not enough to matter. Marked in ways that ensure no other organization will ever trust him with their secrets.
Exile. The kind of punishment that hurts more than death because it means watching the world continue without you, knowing you threw away everything for nothing.
As they carry him out, I finally let myself flip the coin. Once, twice, catching it without looking while I process what just happened. Not the brutal satisfaction I would have felt six months ago, but something quieter. Justice without cruelty. Strength without rage.
Isabella's influence, making me into someone who chooses calculated mercy over explosive vengeance.
Two hours later
The Rosetti mansion kitchen at two in the morning feels like a confessional. Marble countertops gleam under soft lighting, chrome fixtures reflecting the whiskey bottle that sits open between my sister and me. Isabella is at her apartment tonight, needing space to process what happened, to decide whether she wants to take over the Callahan operations alone or accept what I'm offering and build something together. The partnership is already decided—she's proven her loyalty, earned her place in the family. The question now is whether she'll let me be part of her new life or keep me at arm's length while she rebuilds the Callahan empire as a Rosetti ally. The empty bed upstairs is a constant reminder that she might choose safety over love. The city hums beyond floor-to-ceiling windows, but inside everything is quiet except for the clink of ice against crystal.
Carmela sits barefoot at the kitchen island, designer loungewear that costs more than most people's rent but looks casual on her. Dark brown curls loose around her shoulders, green eyes sharp as blades even though she should be exhausted. At twenty-three, she's already survived more violence than most people see in lifetimes, and it's made her impossible to fool.
"You're pacing like a man waiting on a verdict," she observes, taking a sip from her glass.
"I am." I stop beside the window, looking out at the extensive manicured gardens stretched dark beyond the glass. Somewhere in her Upper East Side apartment, Isabella is making a decision that will define us both. Not whether to be part of this world—that decision was made when she chose family over Chase. But whether she'll build her new life with walls up or let me stand beside her as she transforms the Callahan legacy into something worth having.
This waiting is foreign territory. Six months ago, I would have been three women deep into forgetting someone who left mehanging. My old self collected conquests and discarded them just as easily, never waited for anyone. Never cared enough to lose sleep over someone else's decision.
"You love her."
It's not a question, and I don't treat it like one. "Yeah."
"And for once, you're not trying to charm your way out of it," Carmela continues, studying my profile with the intensity that's always made her dangerous. "That's new."
I turn to face her, seeing something I haven't noticed before. My baby sister isn't a baby anymore. The attack at the gallery, the moment she almost died because of our enemies, has burned away whatever innocence she had left. The woman sitting at this counter is fully Rosetti now, whip-smart and feral and observant in ways that will serve her well in the darkness ahead.
"She might not come back," I admit, the words scraping my throat raw. "I told her I'd wait, but she might choose to disappear completely. Start over somewhere I can't find her."
Carmela's expression softens, just slightly. "Would you let her?"
The question hangs in the air between us, heavy with implications. Six months ago, the answer would have been immediate, violent. I would have hunted her to the ends of the earth, used every resource at my disposal to drag her back. Made her understand that leaving me wasn't an option.
Now... "If that's what makes her happy, yes."
The admission shocks us both. I see Carmela's eyes widen, hear the sharp intake of breath as she processes what I've just confessed. This isn't the Matteo she knows, the one who takes what he wants and damn the consequences.
"Jesus," she whispers. "You really do love her."
I lean against the counter, feeling the weight of revelation settle in my chest. "I used to think love was about possession. About making someone need you so much they couldn't imagineleaving. But Isabella... she's taught me it's about making someone feel safe enough to choose you every day."
