The club was called Paradise, which told you everything you needed to know about the kind of place it was. Neon lights. Fake velvet. Women in too little clothing and men with too much money.
Tomas loved it here.
I'd never understood why my sister married him. He was weak. Greedy. The kind of man who smiled too much and meant too little. But Elena loved him, and that had been enough.
Until now.
Marco and I walked in like we owned the place. Men scattered. The music kept playing nobody was stupid enough to stop it but every eye in the room was on us.
Tomas sat in a corner booth, a woman on each arm, a bottle of something expensive on the table. When he saw me, his smile froze.
"Antonio! Brother! What brings you"
I grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall.
The women screamed. Ran. Good.
"Antonio what I didn't "
"Shut up." My voice was quiet. That made it worse. "You've been meeting with Viktor Petrov. Feeding him information. Getting my men killed."
His face went pale. "I don't know what you're"
Marco held up the file. Opened it. Showed him the photographs.
Tomas stopped struggling.
"How long?" I asked.
"A year." His voice was a whisper. "Maybe more."
"A year." I tightened my grip. "A year of betrayal. A year of watching my men die. A year of lying to my sister."
"She doesn't know. I swear, Elena doesn't know "
"You think that matters?" I pulled him close, close enough to see the fear in his eyes. "You think that changes anything?"
"Antonio, please I have children. Your niece and nephew "
"Who will grow up knowing their father was a traitor." I released him. He slumped against the wall, gasping. "Unless you give me a reason to let them remember you differently."
He looked up. "What do you want?"
"Everything. Every name, every meeting, every piece of information you've passed. And then you're going to work for me. Feed Viktor what I tell you to feed him. Lead him into a trap."
"And then?"
"And then you're going to disappear. Leave the city. Leave the country. Never see your wife or children again." I watched the hope drain from his face. "It's better than the alternative."
"The alternative being?"
I didn't answer. I didn't have to.
Tomas nodded slowly. "Okay. Okay, I'll do it."
"Good." I turned to Marco. "Take him somewhere secure. Start debriefing. I need to talk to my sister."
---
SOFIA
I was dressed and drinking coffee when Antonio walked back into the suite.
One look at his face told me everything.
"Bad?"
"Complicated." He sat heavily on the edge of the bed. "The leak wasn't Carlo. It was Tomas. My sister's husband."
I stared at him. "Tomas? The quiet one? The one who brings Elena to every family dinner and holds her hand like she's made of glass?"
"That's him." Antonio's jaw tightened. "He's been working for Viktor for a year. Feeding information. Getting my men killed. And now I have to tell my sister that her husband is a traitor."
I crossed to him, sat beside him, took his hand. "Do you want me to come with you?"
"No. This is something I have to do alone." He squeezed my hand. "But thank you."
"Always."
He looked at me then really looked and something in his expression softened.
"I married the right woman."
"I know." I kissed his cheek. "Go. Do what you need to do. I'll be here."
---
ANTONIO
Elena lived in a brownstone in Carroll Gardens, three blocks from the church where we'd buried our mother. I'd walked that route a thousand times, but never with news like this.
She opened the door with a smile that faded the moment she saw my face.
"Antonio? What's wrong?"
"Can I come in?"
She stepped aside. I walked into her homewarm, inviting, full of pictures of her children, her husband, our family. All of it built on lies.
"Where are the kids?"
"At my mother-in-law's. Tomas wanted a night out." She laughed, but it was nervous. "He's been working late a lot lately. I keep telling him"
"Elena." I took her hands. "Sit down."
She sat. Her eyes were wide, searching.
"Tomas has been working for Viktor Petrov. Feeding him information about our family. About our operations." I held her gaze. "Men are dead because of him."
She stared at me. Shook her head slowly. "No. That's not he wouldn't "
"I have proof. Photographs. Records. He confessed."
"No." She stood, backed away. "No, you're wrong. You have to be wrong."
"I wish I was."
She was quiet for a long moment. Then her face crumpled.
"How long?"
"A year. Maybe more."
"A year." She pressed her hands to her face. "A year of lying to me. Touching me. Telling me he loved me."
"I'm sorry, Elena."
"Sorry?" She laughed, and it was an awful sound. "Sorry doesn't fix this. Sorry doesn't undo a year of betrayal."
"No. It doesn't."
She looked at me, and I saw my mother in her eyes the same strength, the same fire.
"What happens now?"
"He's going to work for me. Feed Viktor false information. Help me end this. And then he's going to disappear."
"Disappear where?"
"I don't know. He doesn't know. Somewhere far from here, far from you, far from the children."
She nodded slowly. Processing. Absorbing.
"And me? What do I tell the children?"
"Tell them their father had to go away. Tell them whatever you need to tell them. I'll support you. Financially, emotionally, whatever you need."
"I don't want your money. I want my husband." Her voice cracked. "I want the man I thought I married."
"I know."
She cried then ugly, desperate sobs that tore at something in my chest. I held her, the way I had when we were children, when the world was simpler and betrayal was just a word in a book.
When she finally pulled back, her eyes were red but steady.
"Do what you have to do. End this. And then..." She took a deep breath. "And then I never want to hear his name again."
"I understand."
"No." She met my eyes. "You don't. But that's okay. Just... promise me something."
"Anything."
"When you have children when you and Sofia have children protect them from this. From the lies, the secrets, the betrayal. Give them something different."
I thought of Sofia. Of the ring on her finger. Of the future we'd started building.
"I will," I said. "I promise."
---
SOFIA
Antonio came back hours later, hollow-eyed and exhausted.
I didn't ask. Just pulled him into bed, wrapped myself around him, held him while he shook.
"She'll be okay," he said finally. "Elena. She's strong. Stronger than me."
"Like mother, like daughter."
He was quiet for a moment. Then: "My mother used to say that. That Elena was like her. Fierce. Unbreakable."
"She was right."
"I know." He turned in my arms, faced me. "I don't want that for us. The secrets. The betrayal. I want... I want honesty. Always. No matter how hard."
"Always," I agreed.
"And I want children. Someday. When this is over. When it's safe."
My heart clenched. "Children?"
"Too soon?"
"A little." I smiled. "But not... not a bad too soon. Just... surprising."
"I've never wanted them before. Never thought about it. But with you..." He trailed off.
"With me?"
"With you, I want everything."
I kissed him then. Softly. Deeply. A promise.
"Then we'll have everything," I whispered. "Someday. When this is over."
"Someday."
We lay there in the darkness, holding each other, and for a moment, the war outside didn't matter.
We had each other.
That was enough.