Corteo left at dawn.
Rio didn't go to the station. Didn't say goodbye. Just let his friend disappear into whatever life awaited people smart enough to run.
The brewery felt empty without him. Just Rio and Avilio and the weight of what came next.
"He's gone," Avilio said. Statement, not question.
"Yeah."
"Good. One less complication." Avilio moved to the table. Spread out papers. Maps. Plans. "We're in endgame now. The Orco war is over. The Vanetti family is celebrating. Guards are down. This is our window."
Rio's stomach tightened. "How long?"
"Three days. Maybe four. I need to position assets. Coordinate timing. Make sure everything falls exactly right." Avilio's voice was cold. Focused. Pure Angelo. "The don dies. Publicly. In a way that destroys the family's credibility. Then chaos. Then we disappear while they tear themselves apart."
"And Nero?"
"What about him?"
"He's the heir. When his father dies, he takes over. That doesn't destroy the family. That just changes leadership."
"Nero won't take over. He'll be too busy dealing with the truth about you." Avilio looked up. Eyes hard. "When the don dies, I'm making sure everyone knows you were involved. That you were the weapon. That you infiltrated, seduced the heir, and betrayed them all."
The words hit like bullets.
"That wasn't the plan—"
"The plan was revenge. Complete revenge. That means destroying their trust. Their bonds. Everything they believe in." Avilio's voice was ice. "You think Angelo Lagusa would settle for just killing the don? No. I want them to know they were betrayed. I want Nero to know you lied to him. I want the family to tear itself apart from the inside."
"You'll get me killed."
"Maybe. But you'll die for the mission. That's what matters."
Rio stared at him. At Angelo's face wearing Avilio's identity wearing righteousness like armor. "When did you become this?"
"The night they killed my family. The night everything burned. The night I decided revenge was all that mattered." Angelo's eyes were dead. "You're just figuring that out now?"
"I thought—" Rio stopped. "I thought there was still something human in you. Some part that remembered friendship. Loyalty. Connection."
"Those things died. Only the mission remains." Angelo gathered his papers. "Three days, Rio. Maybe four. Use them wisely. Say goodbye to whoever you need to say goodbye to. Because after, you're either dead or running. There's no third option."
He left.
Rio sat alone in the empty brewery. Feeling the walls closing in.
Three days. Maybe four.
Then everything collapsed.
The fragments offered no comfort. Just the certainty that this was always the destination. That infiltration led to betrayal led to destruction.
Rio had known that from the beginning.
He'd just hoped the cost would be different.
---
The Vanetti mansion was transformed.
The war's end had brought relief. Celebration. The family gathering to mark survival and victory. Even the don seemed lighter—still sharp, still dangerous, but without the constant edge of wartime vigilance.
Rio arrived mid-morning. His wounds from the Orco assault were healing with impossible speed. Already functional. Already moving normally.
People noticed. They always noticed. But after saving Vanno and helping end the war, questions felt less aggressive. More curious.
Vanno found him first. "You're up and moving. Of course you are. Do you ever actually stay injured?"
"Not if I can help it."
"It's insane. Three bullets two nights ago. You should be bedridden. Instead you're—" Vanno gestured at him. "Walking around like nothing happened."
"Good genetics."
"That's not genetics. That's—I don't even know what that is." Vanno's voice was lighter than it had been in days. The war's end had lifted something. "But I'm glad. You saved my life. Again. I owe you. Again."
"You don't owe me anything."
"I do. And I always pay my debts." Vanno's expression turned serious. "Listen. I know something's going on with you. Something you're not talking about. The healing thing. The combat skills. The way you appeared right when war started. I'm not stupid, Rio. I see patterns."
Rio's chest tightened. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I don't care. Whatever secrets you're carrying—they're yours. You've proven yourself. You've saved my life twice. You've saved Nero's life. You've bled for this family." Vanno put a hand on Rio's shoulder. "So whatever you're hiding—it doesn't matter to me. You're my friend. That's what matters."
The trust was absolute. Complete. The kind that made betrayal unforgivable.
"Vanno—"
"Don't. Just—accept it. Let someone trust you without questioning it. Okay?"
Rio wanted to warn him. Wanted to say that trust was misplaced. That in three days, maybe four, everything Vanno believed would shatter.
"Okay," Rio said instead. Because what else was there?
Vanno smiled. "Good. Now come on. Nero's been asking for you. Something about planning your great escape." He said it teasingly. But there was knowledge underneath. "He's serious about leaving, you know. About taking you away from all this. I've never seen him like this with anyone."
"I know."
"Are you going to go with him?"
No. Because in three days the truth comes out and Nero will hate me and I'll be lucky if I survive long enough to run.
"I don't know," Rio said.
"You should. He loves you. Really loves you. That's rare in this business. In any business." Vanno's voice was sincere. "Don't waste it."
They walked through the mansion together. Toward Nero's quarters. Toward the life Rio was about to lose.
---
Nero was in his sitting room. Maps spread out. Not of Lawless. Of other places. Destinations. Possibilities.
"Hey," Nero said, looking up. Relief and something deeper in his expression. "You're moving well. Still healing impossibly fast."
"It's my superpower."
"Apparently." Nero stood. Crossed to him. Pulled him close. "I'm glad you're okay. When I saw you hit—when those bullets—" He stopped. "I thought I'd lost you."
"You didn't."
"Not yet." Nero's voice was quiet. Intense. "But I keep almost losing you. To bullets. To war. To whatever drives you to throw yourself into danger. And I—" He paused. "I can't keep living like that. Watching you risk yourself. Wondering if this time you won't heal. Won't survive."
"So what do you want?"
"To leave. Like we talked about. You and me. Away from Lawless. Away from the family. Away from all of it." Nero gestured at the maps. "I've been researching. California. Oregon. Somewhere far from here. Somewhere the name Vanetti doesn't follow. We could go. Start over. Be whoever we want."
The fantasy was beautiful. Detailed. Nero had actually been planning it. Actually believed it was possible.
Rio's heart broke watching him.
"When?" Rio asked.
"Soon. The family's stable now. War's over. My father can manage without me. Frate can step up. Ganzo can coordinate." Nero moved closer. "I've been thinking about it. Really thinking. And I don't want this life anymore. The violence. The moral compromises. The constant threat. I want—" He touched Rio's face. "I want something real. Something good. With you."
"Nero—"
"I love you. I know I keep saying it. But I need you to understand how much. You're not just—" Nero struggled for words. "You're not just someone I care about. You're the reason I still believe I can be something other than what this business makes people. You make me want to be better."
The confession was devastating.
Because Rio wasn't making Nero better. He was the weapon destroying everything Nero believed in. The lie wrapped in affection. The betrayal disguised as love.
"I love you too," Rio said. Because it was true. Because he needed Nero to know. Because after everything collapsed, at least that truth would remain.
Nero kissed him. Gentle. Full of hope and plans and futures that would never exist.
"Three days," Nero said. "I need three days to settle things. Make arrangements. Then we go. Just us. Away from everything."
Three days.
The same timeline Angelo had given. The same window before everything collapsed.
The universe had a sense of humor. Dark. Cruel. But definitely humor.
"Three days," Rio agreed. Knowing they'd never leave. Knowing those three days would end with truth and blood and destruction.
But letting Nero hope anyway. Because what else could Rio do? Confess now and watch Nero's world shatter early? Or let him have these last days of believing in futures?
Rio chose the mercy of delayed truth.
It wasn't mercy at all.
---
That afternoon, the don summoned Rio.
Not an interrogation this time. An audience. Rio was escorted to the don's office with something approaching respect.
Progress. Or the illusion of it.
"Ceriano." The don gestured to a chair. "Sit. Drink?"
"No, thank you."
"Suit yourself." The don poured himself whiskey. "You've proven yourself. Repeatedly. The pier. The Tigre assassination. The safehouse assault. The final push against Don Orco. You've bled for this family more than associates who've been here for years."
"I did my job."
"You did more than your job. You saved my son's life. Twice. Saved Vanno. Showed loyalty beyond expectation." The don studied him. "I'm officially removing you from probationary status. You're a full member of this family now. With all the benefits and expectations that comes with."
"Thank you, sir."
"Don't thank me yet. Full membership means full commitment. No walking away. No changing your mind. You're in this for life now." The don's eyes were sharp. "Do you understand what that means?"
"I understand."
"Good. Because I'm giving you something important. A role. A position." The don leaned forward. "My son trusts you. Completely. That's valuable. But it's also dangerous. For him. For the family. So I'm assigning you officially as his personal security. His confidant. His—" The don paused. "Whatever he needs you to be. Your job is keeping him safe. Keeping him focused. Keeping him from making mistakes."
The irony was crushing.
Rio was being assigned to protect Nero from threats. While being the biggest threat himself. While planning Nero's destruction. While betraying everything the don was trusting him with.
"I'll protect him," Rio said. Truth and lie simultaneously.
"See that you do. Because if anything happens to my son—if he's hurt, compromised, or led astray—I'll hold you personally responsible." The don's voice was steel. "Do we understand each other?"
"Perfectly."
"Good. Get out. My son wants to spend time with you. Go. Enjoy it. You've earned that much."
Dismissed.
Rio left. Feeling the weight of the assignment crushing him.
He was now officially responsible for protecting Nero from himself.
The fragments found it darkly amusing.
Rio found it torture.
---
That evening, Nero took Rio to the speakeasy. Not for business. For them. Private time in a public space.
They sat in a corner booth. Good whiskey. Low lighting. Music playing. The world continuing around them while they existed in their own bubble.
"I talked to my father today," Nero said. "About leaving. About taking time away."
"What did he say?"
"He wasn't happy. But he didn't forbid it. Said the family owes me that much after everything." Nero smiled. "We're actually going to do this, Rio. We're going to leave. Start over. Build something new."
"What about the family? Your responsibilities?"
"Frate can handle it. He's wanted more power anyway. Let him have it. Let him deal with the politics and violence and moral compromises." Nero's voice was lighter than Rio had heard in weeks. "I'm done. I've given enough. Now I want to take something for myself. For us."
Rio wanted to believe it. Wanted to imagine that somehow, impossibly, they could escape. That love was enough to overcome lies and betrayal and incoming destruction.
But the fragments knew better.
"What if something happens?" Rio asked quietly. "What if we can't leave? What if—"
"Nothing's going to happen. The war's over. The family's stable. We have three days. Three days and then we're gone." Nero took his hand. "Stop worrying. Stop waiting for disaster. Just—be here. With me. Now."
Rio tried. Tried to be present. Tried to forget what was coming. Tried to pretend this moment was all that mattered.
For a few hours, he almost succeeded.
They talked. Laughed. Made plans they'd never execute. Dreamed about futures that would never arrive.
And Rio let himself love Nero. Completely. Without reservation. Because after everything collapsed, at least he'd have these memories. These stolen hours. These moments of genuine connection before the lies destroyed everything.
Later, back at Nero's quarters, they fell into familiar patterns. Connection that was physical and emotional and dangerously real.
"I love you," Nero whispered in the dark.
"I love you too," Rio whispered back.
Truth. Complete truth.
The only truth Rio had left to give.
---
Rio left before dawn. Slipped back to the brewery. Found Avilio waiting with updates.
"Two days now," Avilio said. "Day after tomorrow. Evening. The don's hosting a family dinner. Everyone required. That's when it happens."
"How?"
"You don't need details. Just need to be there. And when it happens—when the truth comes out—you run. Fast. Don't wait. Don't explain. Just survive." Avilio's voice was cold. "That's your job. Survival."
"What about Nero?"
"What about him?"
"He's going to be there. He's going to see—"
"Good. I want him to see. Want him to know you betrayed him. Want him to understand that everything was a lie." Avilio's eyes were hard. "That's the point, Rio. That's the revenge. Not just killing the don. Destroying their trust. Their bonds. Everything they believe in."
"You're a monster."
"I'm what they made me. What they made us." Avilio stood. "Two days. Use them however you want. Say goodbye. Make peace. Whatever. But when the moment comes, you do your job. You survive. Understand?"
"I understand."
Avilio left.
Rio sat in the dark brewery. Alone with fragments and regrets and the certainty of incoming destruction.
Two days.
Forty-eight hours until everything ended.
Until Nero learned the truth. Until the don died. Until the family tore itself apart. Until Rio lost everything that had started to matter.
The fragments whispered: This is what you are. This is what you do. Infiltrate. Betray. Destroy. Survive. Repeat.
But this time felt different. This time, Rio had actually cared. Actually loved. Actually wanted something beyond survival.
And that made the approaching betrayal unbearable.
Rio thought about Corteo. Safe somewhere. Smart enough to run. Wise enough to survive.
Rio should have gone with him. Should have walked away. Should have chosen survival over doomed love and impossible loyalty.
But he hadn't. And now it was too late.
Two days.
Then everyone burned.
And Rio would survive. Because he always did. Because fragments and reincarnation made death temporary.
But this time, survival felt like the worse option.
Because living forever with the memory of Nero's face when he learned the truth—that was its own kind of hell.
The fragments offered no comfort.
Neither did the dawn breaking over Lawless.
Just another day. One step closer to catastrophe. One breath closer to the moment when everything Rio had built collapsed into ash and regret.
Two days.
The calm before the storm.
The silence before the screaming started.