It felt like the dining room was suddenly beginning to get smaller, the chandelier’s light too bright, the air too heavy.
Leonardo forced himself to stay seated, but his knuckles were whitening around his wine glass. Across the table, Luca’s signet pendant lay like a landmine.
He thought of Elena’s advice: listen to him as a brother, and not as the Mafia King.
Leonardo set the glass down. His voice was low, measured. “Enzo—get Elena out of here.”
Enzo’s brow shot up, but Leonardo met his gaze with ice. “Now.”
A tremor ran through the table. Everyone looked at Elena.
She stood. “Leo—”
Leonardo’s eyes flicked to each man in turn. Then, chillingly:
“GET. HER. OUT. OF. HERE.” he yelled.
No one dared hesitate. Chairs scraped as Enzo, Marco and Paolo rose. They guided Elena gently but f
