~ Massimo ~
The silence in the study pushed against us, heavy and suffocating.
Niamh was standing so rigidly, her gaze burning and fixed entirely on my father with a heat that could have melted lead.
"Who chose El Paso?" she asked in a sharp voice that through the quiet like a razor.
My father didn't blink. He didn't shift in his leather chair. He just stared her directly in the eyes, his expression as unmoving as a mountain.
"I did," he said.
Niamh stayed silent, her eyes searching his for an explanation, a reason, or maybe just a hint of an apology for dragging her back to the site of her greatest trauma.
But my father didn't give her anything. He didn't explain himself to anyone, and the look in his eyes made it clear that the discussion was over. His decision was final.
I watched Niamh's face harden, her jaw set so tight I could see the muscles leaping.
For a split second, she looked like she wanted to reach across the mahogany desk and strangle the Don.
