I groan. “Val?—”
“Don’t ‘Val’ me,” my sister snaps, spinning to face me with fire in her eyes. “I want to meet the girl who’s apparently made my brother forget everything—his responsibilities, his family, the fact that her father murdered Gabriel. Where. Is. She.”
I debate lying, but Valentina will just tear through the house until she finds Emma anyway. “Library.”
Valentina’s already walking before I finish the word, and I follow behind feeling like I’m escorting a bomb toward an open flame.
Emma looks up when we enter, and I watch her expression shift from relaxed to wary in an instant. She stands up slowly, setting her book aside, and the way she holds herself—shoulders back, chin lifted—that tells me she’s ready for a fight.
Good. She’s going to need it.
The two women size each other up, and the air in the library goes tense enough to snap.
“So you’re the girl causing all this chaos,” Valentina says, her voice cold and assessing in a way I recognize from our father. She’s using the tone that’s made grown men apologize and back down.
But Emma doesn’t back down.
“I didn’t ask to be kidnapped,” Emma replies evenly, her green eyes meeting Valentina’s dark ones without flinching. “If there’s chaos, that’s on your brother, not me.”
“No, but you’re here anyway.” Valentina moves further into the library like a predator circling prey. “Making yourself comfortable. Having cozy dinners with Leo. Reading his books.” She gestures to the book on the armchair. “Acting like this is a vacation instead of a kidnapping.”
“What exactly would you prefer I do?” Emma says sharply, matching Valentina’s energy. “Starve myself in protest? Spend all day crying in a corner?” She snorts. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not going to make myself miserable just to satisfy your expectations of how a kidnapping victim should behave.”
“Aren’t you such a good person.” The sarcasm could cut glass. “The brave captive, enduring her suffering with such grace and dignity.”
“Better than being the bitter sister taking her anger out on someone who had nothing to do with what happened,” Emma shoots back, and I see Valentina’s eyes flash with real anger.
Oh fuck. This is about to get bad.
“Nothing to do with it?” Valentina’s voice rises, her hands curling into fists. “Your father killed my brother. You’re a Brennan. You haveeverythingto do with it.”
“I’m a Brennan by birth, not by choice,” Emma says icily. “I was at college when your brother died. I didn’t pull the trigger. I didn’t give the order. So don’t you dare blame me for something I had no control over.”
“You benefit from it though, don’t you?” Valentina takes another step closer, aggressive and challenging. “Everything your father built, everything he took from other families—from my family—you benefit from all of it. The clothes you wear, the school you went to, the life you’ve lived.” She tosses her head and glares at Emma. “All paid for with blood money.”
Fuckingfuck.
“And what about you?” Emma doesn’t retreat an inch, meeting Valentina’s challenge head-on, her eyes cool as she levels a scathing look at my sister. “You’re a Santoro. You think your family’s money is clean? You think your father, your grandfather, your brother”—she glances at me—“got where they are without spilling blood? We’re both mob daughters, Valentina. We both have blood on our hands whether we askedfor it or not. So get off your high horse and stop acting like you’re somehow morally superior to me.”
The silence that follows is deadly. I tense, ready to step between them if either one makes a move, because this feels seconds away from turning physical.
Valentina’s jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping. “You don’t get to talk about my family,” she hisses.
“You don’t get to blame me for yours,” Emma counters. “I’m sorry about Gabriel, I really am. What my father did was wrong and horrible and unforgivable. But I’mnotmy father, and I’m not going to apologize for existing just because you need someone to be angry at.”
“I have plenty of people to be angry at,” Valentina says quietly but deadly. “Starting with your father. And then you, for coming here and making my brother forget why he took you in the first place.”
“I didn’t make your brother do anything,” Emma retorts flatly. “I’m a prisoner here, remember? I don’t have control over what Leo does or doesn’t do.”
“Don’t you?” Valentina’s eyes narrow. “Because frommyperspective, it looks like you have more control than you think.”
I pull away from the wall. It’s time to intervene before someone actually throws a punch. “Val?—”
“Shut up, Leo,” both women say in unison, not looking away from each other.
I fall back against the wall. Great. They’re unified in telling me to stay out of it. That’s justfantastic.
Valentina sits in the chair across from Emma without being invited, crossing her legs and staring Emma down with all the intensity our family is known for.