Page 161 of The Savage

Giada leans into me. Exhausted. Brave but unbroken.

We did not pull the trigger but justice is still coming.

And when it does, it will not miss.

* * *

The call to Orazio happens over the Atlantic on an encrypted line.

Cesare delivers it with no theatrics. Just the bare facts.

Palinski’s terms are simple because men like him prefer clean lines. He keeps Yelena until he’s stripped her of everything she knows. Names. Routes. Money trails. Church officials. Politicians. Any Russian or Italian operator she ever touched on his behalf or Ivanov’s.

In return, we get half of it. Verified and actionable. Delivered in stages, not all at once. Enough to dismantle networks without tipping everyone off at the same time.

Palinski keeps his nephew Liv Ivanovski on a short leash. No more freelancing in Italy or, more importantly, dipping his toes in the States. No more whispering poison into Vittore’s ear. If Ivanov breaks ranks again, Palinski handles it personally or we do.

The guns come next.

New supply lines routed through intermediaries that don’t touch Sicily directly. Clean paperwork, American ports and better margins.

Somehow, we manage to knuckle down a multi-billion-dollar five-year projection that makes Dante whistle under his breath and Cesare grunt approval.

Last condition.

Stan ‘Paul’ Palinski stays in the States. Palinski wants us to keep an eye on his son. Straighten him out. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid enough to embarrass the family again.

Orazio listens without interrupting. When I finish, there’s a pause. Then a low sound of approval.

‘Bene,’ he says. ‘This is acceptable.’ I’m not surprised that there’s no praise. Or sentiment. But I know that’ll come later. Mama’s birthday, the day we hold a special memorial for her every year, is next month.

That’s when we’ll truly draw a line under this.

The call ends.

The jet hums steady beneath us. Giada sleeps against my shoulder, and I don’t wake her until New York comes up beneath us in grey and gold. Familiar skyline. Home territory. Control restored, at least for now.

When we land, the tension doesn’t snap. It loosens. Enough to breathe.

Cesare stands at the base of the steps, coat already on, phone in hand. He looks at me, then at Dante, then at Giada as she comes fully awake beside me.

‘You coming back to Fallbrook?’ he asks.

I look down at her. She meets my eyes without hesitation.

I shake my head and take her hand. ‘Nah,’ I say. ‘Something important to do first.’

Cesare studies us for a second longer, then nods once.

‘Take your time,’ he says.

I nod. And this time, I believe we might actually have some.

24

GIADA

‘Where are you taking me?’ I ask.