‘You say that like it’s a bad thing.’

‘We are born, not made. Dynasty and ambition made me who I am today. It brought me the life I wanted, the stature I have been owed since birth. The Genovese women are survivors; we have the blood of Sicily in our veins, entire families who work beneath us. It will never be like that for you. You will never be anything more than a passing distraction for my son.’ She turned from me, and stopped with her hand on the door. She was in darkness. I decided now that I had met her I much preferred her like that – an indiscernible shadow. ‘He would never choose you over his family.’

Seized by a mixture of bravery and anger, I hurled my response at her back. ‘What’s to say I would ever choose him over mine?’

‘Please,’ she said, throwing the word over her shoulder. ‘You have no family left to speak of, and we both know it.’

White-hot rage ripped through me and I imagined leaping from the bed and pulling her hair out by the roots. ‘You don’t know anything about my family or my loyalty,’ I gritted out. ‘So just get out.’

She left a tinkle of laughter behind her and I fell back against my pillow, panting. I was flooded with adrenalin; terrified and angry and confused and wishing I had been braver, wishing I could stand my ground in front of the Falcones without feeling the creeping arrival of my impending doom. Damn them. Damn her. In a different world we might have gotten along. But in the stark light of day, between two families who would hate each other for ever, I was nothing more than a troublesome, interfering Americano – and she was the Mafia queen from hell.

CHAPTER THREE

GOODBYE

‘You know, when I was going through your closet this morning, I had this horrifying realization that four pairs of sweatpants are more than enough for any one person in their entire lifetime.’

‘Well,’ I said, taking the sweatpants from Millie and balancing on her arm as I hiked said pants up under my hospital gown, ‘those are obviously the words of someone who’s never eaten an entire pizza and had their jeans betray them. You can never have enough sweatpants.’

‘Sweatpants are basically just pyjamas.’

I wagged my finger at her. ‘Socially acceptable pyjamas. Socially acceptable.’

She crinkled her nose in disgust, and I had to stifle the sudden urge to hug her. I was getting that a lot lately – this crazy appreciation for my best friend, who had been there for me more than ever since the warehouse. Plus, I was in a marginally good mood (all things considered) because I had just been discharged, my mother was waiting in the parking lot, Millie was helping me get dressed, and I was finally going home. Even if my life would never be the same again, at least I would be far away from IV drips and lurking Falcones. Especially the female variety.

I slipped out of my hospital gown and shimmied into a tank top and flip-flops. My hair was greasy so I wound it into a high ponytail, scraping the stray strands away from my face. I chose to minimize my general sense of bleakness by not looking in the mirror.

‘Here,’ said Millie, passing me a tub of strawberry Vaseline. ‘This might help.’

‘Thanks.’ It was like trying to fix a bullet wound with a Dora the Explorer bandage, but I smeared some on my lips anyway.

Millie grabbed my overnight bag from the bedside locker and smoothed the sheets one last time to make sure I hadn’t left anything behind. ‘You ready to go?’

I did a cursory once-over of my hospital room. Ah, the times we shared. ‘I am so ready.’

‘Soph?’ My name coincided with a knock, and my heart rate doubled as Nic came into the room.

‘Oh,’ said Nic, taking in Millie and me at once. He raked his hand through his hair, ruffling what was already ruffled. ‘Hi, Millie. I didn’t know you’d be here so early.’

‘Nic,’ she said, faux-smiling so I could see every transparent link of her braces. ‘What a displeasure.’

Up until then, I had somehow, miraculously, kept them apart since the warehouse. My feelings for Nic might have been a complete mess, but Millie’s attitude to him and the rest of his family was pretty clear-cut.

‘Right,’ he said, no longer sure of where to put himself. ‘It’s good of you to help Sophie like this.’

Millie’s laugh was cold. ‘Thanks for the positive reinforcement, Nic. I’m surprised you even recognize the act of helping others.’

Nic shoved his hands in his pockets and relaxed his shoulders with a sigh. He looked at me. ‘I just came to say goodbye.’

‘So, is your stupid, pathetic, arrogant brother here somewhere?’ Millie interjected. If her anger at Nic was a storm, then her attitude to Dom was a hurricane.

‘Which one?’ asked Nic.

Millie snorted. ‘I guess there is quite a list. I’m talking about Dom, King of the Assholes and Overlord of the Douchebags.’

‘Oh—’

‘General of the Jackass Army,’ Millie cut in.

‘He’s—’

‘Admiral of the Idiot Navy. Captain of—’

‘I get it,’ said Nic, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice.

‘Just making sure,’ said Millie. ‘I know you and I live on completely different planets, with different rules about who gets to randomly kill and endanger people, so I figured I’d spell it out for you.’

Nic didn’t take the bait. ‘Dom’s down the hall in Luca’s room.’