Chapter 25 "It's too risky." I pace the warehouse, trying not to look at Sofia as she outlines her plan. We've been at this for hours now-after we finally pulled ourselves from the mattress, got dressed, and shifted into mission mode. The late afternoon sun slants through the grimy windows, casting long shadows across the concrete floor where we've spread out building schematics and security protocols. The air smells of motor oil and rust, with an underlying dampness that speaks of too many years without proper maintenance. "Using you as bait⁠-" "Is the only way to draw Lorenzo out." She doesn't move from her position at the makeshift table-an old workbench we've covered with Mario's intelligence files. Her voice carries clearly in the cavernous space, bouncing slightly off the metal walls. "He wants me. Has always wanted to control me. We use that." "There has to be another way," I insist. "There isn't." She stands, that familiar stubborn set to her jaw. "You know I'm right. Lorenzo won't show his hand unless he thinks he has me cornered." I do know she's right. That's what terrifies me. "Dante." She steps into my path, forcing me to stop. "This isn't like before. I'm not some helpless target anymore." "You were never helpless." My hands find her waist automatically. "But Lorenzo knows you. He knows how to hurt you." "Yes." Her smile is dangerous. "But he doesn't know this version of me. The one you helped create." Before I can respond, my phone rings. It's an unknown number, but I instantly recognize the serious greeting on the other side. "Marco? Christ, how are you? Your shoulder-" I answer immediately, feeling like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. "I'm fine. Healing. More importantly, we need to talk." His voice is stronger than I expected, though I can hear the strain underneath. "Is that Marco?" Sofia's face floods with relief, looking as if she's finally released the weight of the world off her shoulders. "Is he okay?" I nod to her then focus back on the call. "How did you get this number?" "Mario gave me the emergency contact before the penthouse. Said you'd have a secure line if everything went to hell." There's dark humor in his voice. "Guess everything went to hell." "Your recovery-" I start to say, but Marco cuts me off. "I said I'm fine. Bullet went clean through, missed the major arteries. Takes more than that to put a Renaldi down." He pauses. "Though I hear my sister's been keeping you busy." Sofia gestures for the phone, worry still clear in her eyes despite his reassurances. "Meeting's set," Marco continues before I can respond. "Council chambers. Tomorrow night. Emergency session about the recent security breaches and the threats against our family." Sofia's already pulling up building schematics on the laptop Mario left us. My brilliant, dangerous girl. "Who called the meeting?" I ask, though I already suspect the answer. "Lorenzo." Sofia and I look at each other in disbelief. "Says we need unified response to the attacks, better coordination between families." Marco's voice is neutral, but I can hear the underlying strain. "Something feels off about it, but I can't put my finger on what." "Who's confirmed?" I ask, watching her work. "Full Council. Even the old guard families." Marco's voice hardens. "Lorenzo's planning something big." "We'll be ready." "About that." Sofia looks up sharply at Marco's tone. "I'm sending a team to your location. Time to bring Sofia home where she's safe." Time seems to slow down. "Marco⁠-" "This isn't a discussion." Ice in his voice now. "You've done your job protecting her. Let the family handle the rest." Sofia grabs the phone. "Like hell." "Sofia?" Marco's surprise quickly turns to anger. "Put Dante back on." "No. Listen to me, big brother. I'm not coming home. Not until this is finished." "This isn't your fight!" "The hell it isn't!" Her voice rises, echoing off the concrete walls of the warehouse. "Lorenzo betrayed us. Tried to have me sold. Used me to prove they could take anyone from any family. This is exactly my fight." Silence on the line. Then, dangerously quiet, "What do you mean, Lorenzo betrayed us?" Sofia takes a shaky breath, and I can see the pain flash across her face as she relives it all. "Uncle Lorenzo is the one who's been feeding information to Viktor and Dominic. He's the inside source. He knew about my schedule that night, Marco. He suggested moving my security detail to the perimeter. He made sure I'd be alone and vulnerable." "That's-no. No, that's impossible." Marco's voice cracks. "Lorenzo's been...thirty-five years, Sofia. Thirty-five fucking years. He can't be⁠-" "He's the traitor." Sofia's voice cracks slightly. "We have proof. Financial records, communication intercepts, security logs. He's been selling us out for months, maybe longer. The timing of the attacks on our warehouses, every compromised safe house-it all traces back to him." The silence extends so long I wonder if the call dropped. When Marco finally speaks, his voice is raw with something between rage and grief. "Lorenzo. Jesus Christ. Lorenzo did this to you?" "He handed me over like I was nothing," Sofia whispers, and I see her free hand clench into a fist. "Twenty-two years of calling him 'Uncle,' of trusting him completely, and he-" Her voice breaks. "I'll kill him." Marco says, his voice barely a whisper. Then louder, shaking. "I'll fucking-I'll tear him apart with my bare hands." "Not if we get to him first," Sofia says, straightening her shoulders. "We have a plan." "Sofia..." Marco's voice is strained, like he's trying to process too much information at once. "Lorenzo is-was-family. He was at every birthday, every Christmas. How could he⁠-?" "Because your father chose you as heir instead of him," I interject, unable to listen to Sofia's pain any longer. "Thirty-five years of service, and he felt passed over. Resentful. Viktor and Dominic offered him revenge and a piece of the new power structure." "Son of a bitch," Marco breathes. Then, stronger, "What's your plan?" Sofia explains our strategy, her voice growing steadier as she focuses on tactics rather than emotions. But I can see the cost in the set of her shoulders, the way pain flashes across her features when she mentions Lorenzo's name. "It's too dangerous," Marco says finally, mirroring my earlier language, but there's something different in his voice now. Not just protective concern, but the recognition that this is deeply personal for Sofia. That she has the right to see this through. "I can handle it," Sofia says firmly. "Like you've been handling things?" Marco's bark of a laugh crackles through the phone. "Taking unnecessary risks, putting yourself in danger, making Dante risk everything to⁠-" "He didn't risk everything for duty," Sofia cuts in defensively. "He risked everything because he loves me. Because I love him." The silence on the line is so long I wonder if the call dropped. When Marco finally speaks, his voice is deadly quiet. "Son of a bitch." "Marco-" I start, but he cuts me off. "How long have you been fucking my sister?" The crude words hit like a slap. Sofia's entire body goes rigid beside me, her dark eyes flashing with fury. "That's not your business," she says, her voice icy cold. "Like hell it isn't!" Marco's voice explodes through the speaker, raw with betrayal and rage. "Sofia, you're twenty-two years old! And Dante-Christ, Dante, I trusted you. I trusted you with the most important thing in my world and you⁠-" "He does protect me!" Sofia cuts in, her voice rising to match her brother's anger. "By treating me as an equal. By helping me become stronger instead of keeping me locked away like some fragile doll!" My chest tightens as I watch her fight for us, for what we have. The fierce protectiveness in her voice, the way she stands her ground against her brother's fury-it makes me love her even more. "By taking advantage of your trauma! Your vulnerability!" Marco's voice cracks with emotion. "Jesus, Sofia, you went through hell and he⁠-" "He saved me!" Sofia screams, tears streaming down her face now. "Not just from the auction house, not just from Lorenzo's men, but from myself! From thinking I was broken, from believing I was weak!" The pain in her voice tears at my heart. I reach for her, but she shakes her head, needing to fight this battle herself. "You don't understand," she continues, her voice breaking. "He sees me. Really sees me. Not the little girl you and Dad want to protect, but the woman I am. The woman I chose to become." "You're my-you're my little sister," Marco's voice breaks completely. "You're supposed to be...fuck, Sofia, you're supposed to be safe. Not-not running around playing soldier with⁠-" "I'm not playing anything!" Sofia's voice is pure fire now. "I'm the woman who killed five men to save him. Who figured out Lorenzo's betrayal. Who's been fighting beside him as an equal partner, not some victim to be coddled!" The pride and fear warring in my body threaten to overwhelm me. She's magnificent-fierce and unbreakable and mine. But Marco's words echo in my head: I trusted you. The weight of that betrayed trust sits like lead in my stomach. "Sofia," Marco's voice is quieter now, pleading. "He's over a decade older than you. He's seen things, done things⁠-" "So have I!" she fires back. "I've killed people, Marco. I've been tortured, hunted, sold like livestock. I'm not some innocent child anymore!" "That's exactly why you need⁠-" "I need him," Sofia says fiercely, cutting her brother off. "I need the man who holds me when the nightmares come. Who trains with me instead of training me. Who loves me for exactly who I am, not who you think I should be." The room went dead quiet. I can hear Marco breathing heavily, can almost see him trying to process this new reality-his baby sister as a woman, as a warrior, as someone in love. "I love him," Sofia says again, quieter now but no less certain. "I love him, and he loves me, and that's not going to change no matter how angry you get." The words settle into my bones, even as my heart breaks for the pain this is causing both of them. When Marco finally speaks, his voice is hollow with defeat and something that might be grief. "How long?" Sofia's hand finds mine, her fingers intertwining with mine in a gesture of solidarity. "It doesn't matter how long. What matters is that it's real." "It matters to me," Marco says quietly. "It matters because you're my sister and he's my-" His voice breaks. "He's my brother, and now I don't know what the hell either of you are to me anymore." The pain in his voice cuts deeper than any anger could have. This isn't just about protecting Sofia-it's about the fundamental shift in our relationship, the way everything he thought he knew has been turned upside down. Engines rumble outside. Multiple vehicles cutting through the heavy silence that followed Marco's broken words. "We've got company," I say, the tactical part of my brain kicking in even as my heart still reels from the conversation. I'm already moving for weapons. "My team," Marco confirms, his voice heavy with exhaustion and pain. "This discussion isn't over. Not by a long shot." The call ends with a sharp click that feels like a door slamming shut. Sofia stares at the dead phone for a moment, tears still tracking down her cheeks, her hand trembling slightly from the emotional assault. Then she straightens, wiping her face with the back of her hand, and moves to check the security feeds. Even devastated, she's still a professional. Still my fierce warrior. "Not my brother's men," she says tightly, staring at the monitors. "Wrong vehicles. Marco's team uses modified Suburbans. These are standard black SUVs." "They followed us," I realize, cursing myself for not being more careful. "From the Alberto meeting. Lorenzo's cleanup crew must have had surveillance watching for survivors." Bullets shatter the windows. I pull her behind cover, but she's already moving with me, weapon ready. The tears are gone, replaced by cold focus. Sofia's compartmentalizing her pain, the way this life demands. We flow together like water, covering angles, protecting each other with the knowledge that comes from absolute trust "Still want to sideline me?" she asks, taking down a shooter with perfect form. But there's an edge to her voice now, a rawness left over from Marco's words about her being too young, too vulnerable. I can't help the surge of fierce pride that cuts through my own emotional turmoil. "Never again, principessa." Her answering smile is brilliant but carries a hint of tightness that wasn't there before. This fight with Marco has changed something in her, hardened her resolve. "Good. Because we've got incoming from the east, and I have an idea." "Lead the way." As we fight our way out of another trap, bullets flying around us, I realize something through the chaos and pain of the last few minutes: I'm not just protecting her anymore. We're protecting each other. Partners in every sense of the word. And Marco's going to have to accept that-accept us, accept what we've become, accept that his little sister is gone and a warrior has taken her place. If we survive the next twenty-four hours to make him understand. In a romance-themed observation show, several participants undergo a series of interactions and conflicts filled with love, misunderstandings, and power struggles. In the end, one couple rises to over...