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“We both know we’re too far gone. There’s no turning this back, even if I wanted to.” Cormac nods to me and starts to walk off. “Good luck, Ronan. I hope you do the right thing.”
I watch him go. As he leaves, I feel my place in the world shift. My axis tilts, and it’s like I’m tumbling through space.
My family is going to kill itself. I can see it happening so clearly. And yet there’s no reasonable way for me to stop it.
Except by stepping down.
Chapter 39
Valentina
Ronan’s a tense mess when he gets home after his meeting with Cormac. I pour him a drink and rub his shoulders while we sit on the couch in his living room together. He finishes half his glass of whiskey in one go and leans forward, head hanging, elbows on his knees.
“If I walk away, nobody gets hurt.” He doesn’t look at me as he says it. I know how much this is killing him. I remember how terrible those early days after my father’s murder were when I had to witness my own family break into bloody pieces. Back then, Marco was the only person that cared about me; he saved my life when there were multiple Capos that would’ve happily ended it.
An ugly, horrible knot twists my guts. “You can’t do that,” I tell him. “That won’t solve anything. It’ll only hand the family over to Cormac, and he’ll run it straight into the ground.”
“I know you’re right, love, but it’s killing me, the thought of hurting my own cousins.”
“They’re traitors. They’re?—”
“My people,” he says, looking back at me.
I lean against him and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I hug him tight, kiss his neck, and wish I could draw some of his pain into my body, if only to relieve some of his suffering for a little while.
He tells me all about the meeting, gives me details about what Cormac said and how he was feeling. When he finishes, I take his hand in mine and lean into him, lifting my legs into his lap.
“When my father died, the Santoro Famiglia broke up faster than I would’ve guessed.” I close my eyes. I hate talking about this, but I think he needs to hear it.
“I’ve heard rumors,” he admits, “but nothing concrete.”
“They were men I’ve known my whole life. I grew up with their children. I was in multiple weddings, attended funerals, went on vacation with them. We were close. But when my father passed, the fight to become the new Don was terrible, and it ended up killing a lot of them.” I tell him about the drive-by shootings, about the stabbings, about the four days of slaughter that culminated in Marco hiding me away in a safehouse for six weeks before the heat finally died down. “These were people that swore their lives to each other barely a few months earlier, and suddenly they’re slaughtering each other as though they had been blood enemies their entire lives. It was so hard to believe, but the second it turned, it turnedfast. That’s what I need you to understand, Ronan.”
His breathing is slow and steady. “Cormac’s going to come for us.”
“I’d bet on a day or two, but yeah, he definitely will. He’s desperate, right? If he can’t get you to step down on your own, he’ll turn straight to violence.”
Ronan closes his eyes. I hate that he’s going through this. I hate that I played a role in it, even if he made it clear that I wasn’t really the catalyst, that this had all been brewing for a while before I entered the picture.
I still blame myself. The alliance between Marco, Ronan, Adam, Dusan, and Julien broke up in violence; my family shattered against its own self-hate; and now Ronan’s organization is about to experience its own civil war. Whenever I’m involved, violence inevitably follows.
Rationally, I can see how none of that is my fault, that I’ve been the victim of shitty circumstances, but it doesn’t really help make me feel any better.
Even though I want to go take a long shower and cry myself to sleep, I keep it together for Ronan’s sake. He needs me right now, and if I’m going to help him avert the worst outcome of this fight, I have to start putting my past behind me and moving on. If I can’t do it for myself, I can at least do it for Ronan.
“There aren’t a lot of options,” he says at last. “A good number of our best soldiers went with Cormac. We have more men in total, but he’s got the youngest and the best fighters. In a straight-up war, I’m afraid we’re too evenly matched.”
“Then you need to find an edge.”
“If you know of something, feel free to let me know.”
I press my lips together. “Rocco might help.”
“Great, we can add half a dozen more Italian soldiers of dubious loyalty to the ranks.”
“It’s better than nothing.”
He nods and leans into me. “You’re right. Call him for me.” He kisses me gently. “I’m stressed, love. I don’t want to see my family start tearing itself apart.”
