Deadly Devotion

Chapter Sixteen: Choosing Sides

The family meeting happened two days later.

Dante didn't want me there. Said it was too dangerous. That I should stay away from anything involving family business.

But Marco called me that morning.

"You need to be there," he said. "At the estate. Tonight. Seven o'clock."

"Dante said I shouldn't come."

"Dante doesn't know what he needs right now. But I do. He needs you there. As support. As a reminder of why he's fighting for a different way."

"Your father won't want me there."

"My father doesn't get to decide everything anymore. Just come. Please."

So I went.

The DeLuca estate looked the same as always. Big, expensive, perfectly maintained. But tonight it felt different. Heavy. Like something important was about to happen.

Isabella answered the door. She looked surprised to see me.

"Mia. I didn't know you were coming."

"Marco asked me to. Is that okay?"

She studied me for a moment. Then nodded. "Come in. They're in the study."

I followed her through the house. Voices were coming from behind a closed door. Raised voices. Angry.

Isabella knocked once, then opened the door without waiting.

The room went silent.

Salvatore sat behind his desk. Dante stood in front of it, tension in every line of his body. Marco was by the window. Uncle Tony leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

All of them looked at me.

"What is she doing here?" Salvatore asked.

"I invited her," Marco said. "She has a right to be here. She's part of Dante's life. Part of this family now."

"This is family business. She's not family."

"She's more family than some people in this room," Dante said quietly. He looked at me. "You didn't have to come."

"I wanted to."

Salvatore's eyes narrowed. "You wanted to watch us discuss how to handle our enemies? How to protect our territory? Or did Marco tell you to come so you could talk Dante out of doing what needs to be done?"

"I came because I care about what happens to Dante. And to this family."

"This family." Salvatore stood up. "You tried to destroy this family. And now you want us to believe you care about it?"

"I care about the people in it. I care about Dante. I care about what happens to all of you."

"Enough to keep your mouth shut if things get ugly? Enough to look the other way if we have to handle the Castellano problem permanently?"

The threat was clear. They were planning violence. Possibly murder.

"Dad, that's not the plan," Dante said. "I told you, I have another way."

"Your way is weak. Negotiation. Compromise. That's not how we built this family."

"Times have changed. The old ways don't work anymore."

"The old ways built everything you have. Everything you take for granted. Respect. Fear. Power. That came from strength. Not talking."

"Strength doesn't mean killing people."

"Sometimes it does." Salvatore looked at Uncle Tony. "Tell him. Tell my son how the real world works."

Uncle Tony pushed off the wall. "Your father's right. The Castellanos are moving into our territory. Taking what's ours. We let that happen, every other family in New York will think they can do the same. We have to hit back. Hard."

"I'm not saying we do nothing," Dante said. "I'm saying we hit back smart. We cut off their money. We take their businesses. We make it hurt without spilling blood."

"That takes too long. By the time we do all that, they'll have taken everything."

"Then we move fast. I already have people working on it. We can take out their main income source in a week. Cut them off at the knees without firing a single shot."

Salvatore sat back down. "You've been planning this."

"Yes. Because I knew you'd want the violent option. I wanted to have an alternative ready."

"And if it doesn't work? If they fight back anyway?"

"Then we adjust. But we try this first. Give me one week. If it doesn't work, we do it your way."

The room was silent. Everyone waiting for Salvatore's response.

He looked at his son. Really looked at him. "You're willing to stake your reputation on this? Your position in this family? Because if you're wrong, if this fails and we look weak, that's on you."

"I know. I'm willing to take that risk."

"Why? Why is this so important to you?"

Dante glanced at me. Then back at his father. "Because I don't want to be the kind of man who solves every problem with violence. Because I want to build something different. Something that can last. Something that won't end with all of us dead or in prison."

"You sound like your mother."

"Maybe that's not a bad thing."

Salvatore was quiet for a long moment. "One week. You have one week to make this work. But if it fails, we do this my way. No more arguments."

"Agreed."

"And her." Salvatore pointed at me. "She stays out of it. I don't want the FBI using her to track what we're doing."

"She's not working with the FBI."

"You don't know that for sure."

"Yes I do. I trust her."

"Your trust has been misplaced before."

"Not this time."

Salvatore looked at me. "You understand what you're witnessing here? What you're learning about this family?"

"Yes."

"And you'll keep your mouth shut? No matter what happens?"

"Yes."

"Even if people get hurt? Even if things get messy?"

I hesitated. This was the moment. The choice I'd been avoiding since everything started.

"Yes," I said. "I'll keep quiet."

"You're willing to be an accessory? To protect criminals? To help us avoid the law?"

"I'm willing to protect the man I love. Whatever that means."

Salvatore studied me. "My wife was right about you. You actually mean it."

"I do."

"All right then. You can stay. But you follow my rules. You see nothing. You hear nothing. You know nothing. If the FBI comes asking questions, you have no information to give them. Understand?"

"I understand."

He nodded once. "Marco, take her to the sitting room. The rest of us need to discuss details."

Marco gestured for me to follow him. I looked at Dante. He gave me a small nod. It's okay. I'll find you after.

In the sitting room, Isabella was waiting with coffee and pastries like this was a normal family gathering.

"How bad was it?" she asked.

"Tense. But Dante stood up to his father. Got him to agree to try a different approach."

"That's good. Salvatore respects strength. Even when he disagrees with it." She poured coffee for both of us. "You were brave. Coming here. Standing in that room with all of them."

"I was terrified."

"Brave and terrified aren't opposites. They usually go together." She handed me a cup. "You really love my son."

"I do."

"Enough to accept what this family is? What we do?"

"I'm trying to."

"That's honest. I appreciate honesty." She sat across from me. "Dante is changing. Because of you. Becoming more like the man I always hoped he'd be. Less like his father's shadow and more himself."

"I'm not trying to change him."

"You don't have to try. Just being yourself does it. You make him want to be better. That's a powerful thing."

"Or a dangerous thing. If it puts him at odds with his family."

"His family will adjust. Salvatore acts tough, but he loves his sons. He'll come around." She paused. "The question is whether you can handle what comes next. Because choosing Dante means choosing all of this. The danger. The secrets. The constant threat of violence or arrest. Can you live with that?"

Could I? Could I really live this life? Always looking over my shoulder? Always wondering if the FBI was watching? Always knowing the man I loved was involved in illegal things?

"I don't know," I said honestly. "But I'm going to try."

"That's all any of us can do."

An hour later, the meeting ended. Dante found me in the sitting room.

"Let's go home," he said.

We drove back to the city in silence. The weight of everything that had happened sitting heavy between us.

At his apartment, he poured us both whiskey. We sat on the couch, not touching. Just sitting.

"You shouldn't have been there," he said finally.

"Marco asked me to come."

"Marco had no right. That was dangerous. If things had gone differently, if my father had decided you were a threat..."

"But he didn't. He accepted me. Sort of."

"For now. But he's watching you. Waiting for you to mess up. To give him a reason to get rid of you."

"I won't mess up."

"You can't promise that. You have no idea what you just agreed to. What you might see or hear in the coming weeks."

"Then tell me. Prepare me. Don't keep me in the dark."

He drank his whiskey in one swallow. "The Castellano family runs drugs. Heroin mostly. They've been trying to move into areas we control. Taking over distribution points. Hurting our people."

"And your plan is to what? Take over their operation?"

"No. Cut off their supply. I have contacts who can make sure their shipments get intercepted. By the actual police. Legal seizures. No violence from us. Just information passed to the right people at the right time."

"You're going to help the police bust a drug operation?"

"Ironic, right? The mob working with law enforcement to take down other criminals."

"That's actually smart."

"That's why my father hates it. It's not the old way. It's not blood and honor and violence. It's strategy. And it makes him feel old and outdated."

"But it'll work?"

"If I can pull it off. If my contacts come through. If the police do their part. If the Castellanos don't figure out it was us." He poured more whiskey. "A lot of ifs."

"What happens if it doesn't work?"

"Then my father does it his way. People die. The FBI gets more interested in us. And I lose any chance of moving this family in a different direction."

"No pressure then."

He almost smiled. "No pressure at all."

I moved closer. Put my hand on his knee. "You can do this. I believe in you."

"Why? You've seen what I am. What my family is. Why do you still believe in me?"

"Because I've also seen who you want to be. And that person is worth believing in."

He pulled me onto his lap. Held me close. "I don't deserve you."

"Stop saying that."

"It's true. You gave up everything for me. Your career. Your reputation. Your freedom potentially. And what have I given you? Just problems. Danger. A life of looking over your shoulder."

"You've given me love. Real love. The kind I didn't think existed."

"Love isn't enough."

"Maybe not. But it's what we have. And I'll take it."

He kissed me. Soft at first. Then deeper. More desperate.

We made love on the couch. Slow and intense. Like we were both trying to hold onto something that felt like it might slip away.

After, lying tangled together, he spoke quietly.

"If this goes wrong. If my plan fails and things get violent. I need you to promise me something."

"What?"

"That you'll walk away. That you'll protect yourself. Even if it means leaving me."

"I'm not leaving you."

"Mia, I'm serious. If this family goes to war, you can't be here. You'll be a target. The Castellanos will use you to get to me. Or the FBI will use the violence as an excuse to pressure you again. Either way, you're in danger."

"Then we make sure your plan works. Make sure it doesn't come to that."

"And if it does?"

"Then we deal with it together. Stop trying to push me away."

"I'm trying to protect you."

"I don't need protection. I need you. That's all."

He held me tighter. "You're the most stubborn person I've ever met."

"You're not exactly flexible yourself."

"We're a disaster together."

"The best kind of disaster."

He laughed softly. "Yeah. The best kind."

We fell asleep on the couch. Wrapped around each other. Holding on like we both knew that everything was about to get harder.

Because Dante had made his choice. He'd chosen his path. Different from his father's. Different from what the family expected.

And I'd chosen to stand with him. Whatever came next.

We were in this together now. Completely. No way back.

Just forward. Into whatever mess was waiting for us.

Together.