Page 514 of Rosetti Family New York
Lucia circles again, switching tactics. Soft words about her losses, tears for Vinny, confessions about growing up in violence.
Her words bounce off my walls.
"She came to your apartment that first night," Lucia tries. "Threw herself at the first dangerous man she met. That's not love, Van. That's daddy issues."
But I remember how Carmela saw through my gruff exterior from that first moment. Didn't run when she found my hidden room. Walked into my darkness and brought her sunshine with her.
Physical and psychological pain merge. I catalog facts through the haze: twelve steps to the nearest exit, two guards at six-foot-two and six-foot-four, Lucia checking her phone every seventeenminutes. My body is restrained, my mind compromised—but my heart is clear.
Carmela's memory is the only part Lucia can't dissect.
I was wrong to send her away. She made her decision knowing who I am—the soldier, the surgeon, the damaged man who needs control. And she chose all of it.
The way she whispered "I choose you" while I bound her wrists. The strength underneath her smiles facing down Torrino threats. Her steady hands during medical emergencies.
"I'll die before I betray them," I tell Lucia, voice hoarse but certain. "And when I get out of here—when, not if—I'm going to find the woman I love and never let her leave again."
The rage that transforms Lucia's face is beautiful—a predator realizing their prey has teeth.
26 - Carmela
Three days. That's how long I've been pacing these marble floors while Van suffers. That's how long my brothers have been treating me like I might shatter if they speak too loud. That's how long I've been swallowing this burning in my throat.
Not anymore.
When I push through the double doors of the family war room, every head turns. My heels announce each step—not the tentative click of their baby sister, but something new. Something that makes Dom half-rise from his chair before I even speak.
"He is mine," I announce, surprised by how steady my voice sounds. "And I'm bringing him home. The rescue operation begins now."
Dom starts to stand properly, that big-brother protection mode kicking in, but my raised hand stops him. The gesture feels natural, like I've been waiting my whole life to make it.
"Carmela, you need to—" Rafe begins.
"I need to get my man back." I move to the head of the table where tactical maps sprawl across polished oak. "He's been captured and held for—" My voice catches slightly. "For three days while I've been sitting here letting you handle everything. That ends now."
Leo's jaw drops. Actually drops, like in the movies. "How do you even—"
"Know about any of this?" The laugh that escapes me is harsher than I intended. "Because I'm a Rosetti. Because I've been watching and learning a lot more than any of you realized."
The war room goes quiet except for the hum of electronics. Matt's silver coin—his nervous tell since we were kids—stops mid-flip.
"This is non-negotiable." I spread my hands flat on the table, leaning forward the way I've seen Papa do a thousand times. "He belongs to me, and I will not leave him in enemy hands for one more hour."
God, the girl who used to believe love conquered all would barely recognize me. But that girl didn't understand that sometimes love means becoming someone harder. Someone who can actually save the people she loves.
"You can't just—" Matt starts, fingers twitching toward his coin.
"Can't what?" The words come out softer than I intended—dangerous soft, the kind that makes Matt actually flinch. "Can't take command of an operation to save the man I love? Watch me."
Dom crosses his arms. "Carmela, you don't understand how these things work. You need to let us handle—"
"Handle what, exactly?" My hands stay steady even though my heart is trying to escape through my ribs. Van taught me that—control is about what they see, not what you feel. "Because from where I'm standing, you've been handling this for three days while he's being systematically broken by people who want to destroy our family through him."
Rafe steps forward, ice-blue eyes hard. "You don't have the experience to run a tactical operation. This isn't some charity gala you're organizing."
The condescension stings, but it also lights something up inside me. Time to surprise them.
"I've been learning about this family, about how we function," I continue softly. "Maybe not the specifics of every operation, but enough to know what we're capable of when someone threatens what's ours."
