Page 84 of Lorenzo

“That whoever set this up knew that there were too many factors to plan it out perfectly. What happened the other night wasn't the first try.”

Tomasso’s expression changes as the implication reaches him.

“She was waiting for Alessio that night too.”

“And when he left before she could approach him, the plan was abandoned,” Ricardo says.

“So they simply waited for the next opportunity,” Mario adds.

Alessio stares at the phone in my hand. “They had already chosen me.” His voice is quiet.

“Yes,” I say. “They were simply waiting for a night when every piece fell into place.”

“Someone had the resources for this,” Julia says.

“And the patience,” Mario adds.

Ricardo looks toward Alessio. “They watched long enough to learn your habits, but they also had Rachel ready to step in whenever the opportunity came.”

Diego reaches for his wine. “That means this was organized well before Genevieve died.”

“Yes,” I say. “And whoever arranged it had no problem waiting until Alessio gave them the right night.”

“Which means,” Mario says, authoritatively, immediately getting everyone's attention, “that this—what you five have been doing—it's over.”

No one dares argue with him, though I can feel that they want to.

I already had plans to put a stop to all of this club going. But having Mario do it makes it much easier for me.

“Naples rules are back,” he says, his eyes slowly tracking over each of them in turn. “We allowed you the freedom of living normal lives here in Chicago because we are not as well known, but that's done. I know all of you can defend yourselves, but what happened to Alessio is not a matter of self-defense.

“It was manipulation,” Mario continues. “They studied your habits, waited for the right opportunity, and used what they learned against you. Your lives have become too public and predictable, and you cannot fight something you do not see coming.”

Tomasso shifts in his chair but keeps his mouth shut.

“You didn't have a normal upbringing, and so we allowed you a little bit more freedom here,” Mario says. “I blame myself for letting it go too far.”

“It's not on you, Papà,” Matteo says immediately. “We should have known better. You're right. This is not how we were raised.”

For a moment, I feel for Matteo. He's not just Mario's son. He's his eldest son. He's the heir and future don of this family. His father taking responsibility for his mistakes would be a great shame for any heir.

Mario studies him for a long moment. I know he still blames himself, but he knows that Matteo needs to take this responsibility.

“Then learn from it,” Mario says. “All of you.”

Matteo inclines his head. “We will.”

Tomasso follows a second later, then Dante, Edoardo, and Alessio.

No one argues. No one needs the rules explained.

They already know them.

They simply hoped Chicago had made them unnecessary for a little longer.

Cecilia begins to fuss softly in Ricardo’s arms. Julia reaches for her, cooing at her softly, Leonardo reacts, waking a moment later, stretching against Victoria’s shoulder until Mario places a hand over his small back.

The sight of both babies shifts something in me.