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Izzy elbowed him.

I watched them all. Ten years earlier, we had sat at the same table as sons, daughters, brothers, cousins. We had spoken over one another and fought over food because we had believed there would always be another morning.

Now they all had spouses. Children. Lives built around the life I had abandoned.

Tone caught me looking. Her expression softened. She reached across the table and pushed the bread basket toward me.

“You used to take the end pieces.”

She remembered.

“I still do.”

I took one.

Tone looked around the table again. Her family. Her husband. Her brothers and cousins. The empty chair that would always belong to our father. The absence of Alessio, too large to hide even among so many people.

Her eyes returned to me. “This is nice,” she said quietly.

Archie’s shoulder pressed against hers.

“It is,” Neve agreed.

Tone swallowed and lowered her eyes to her plate. I wanted to tell her I was sorry. Instead, I ate the bread she had passed me.

Atlas broke the tense silence.

“Where’s Zeno?”

“He called early this morning. He won’t make it before lunch.”

“That’s convenient,” Raze said. “He returns our missing priest and leaves us to deal with the consequences.”

“I’m sitting right here, brother,” I reminded him.

“Exactly. You’re the consequence.”

Adriana’s knee touched mine beneath the table. I looked at her. She had lowered her face, but I saw the smile she tried to hide.

For a few minutes, I allowed myself to forget why we were there. Then Raze’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen before he answered.

“Yes.”

His expression changed. The warmth left the table so quickly it might never have existed. Raze listened without interrupting. His free hand settled flat beside his plate.

“Who?” he asked.

A pause followed.

His eyes moved to me.

“A representative of the Coccico family is at the front gate,” he announced.

Chairs scraped against the floor as the men stood almost as one. Instead of panic, Mikayla calmly gathered the women away from the glass walls without instilling fear. My family still remembered how to become a fortress. And they had taught their women the same skill.

“What does he want?” Atlas asked.

“To speak with DeMarco.”