The Orco family retaliated three days later.
Not with coordinated strikes. Not with strategic planning. With desperate, brutal violence born from knowing they were dying.
They hit a Vanetti speakeasy during peak hours. Civilian casualties. Women. Children. People who had nothing to do with the war.
Twelve dead. Twenty wounded.
Lawless was drowning in blood.
---
Rio stood in the aftermath. The speakeasy was a charred shell. Bodies covered with sheets. Survivors being treated. The smell of smoke and death mixing with spilled liquor.
Nero was coordinating recovery efforts. Face grim. Eyes haunted. This was different from the safehouse—those had been enemy combatants. These were innocents.
Vanno sat on the curb. Staring at nothing. He'd been inside when the attack happened. Barely survived. Now he just—existed. Shell-shocked.
"They're animals," Ganzo spat. "Attacking civilians. That crosses every line."
"We crossed lines first," Frate said quietly. Everyone turned. He stood apart from the group. "We exterminated their leadership. Murdered them in their beds. Don't pretend we're innocent."
"They're criminals—"
"So are we." Frate's voice was flat. "We started total war. They're finishing it. This is what war looks like when there are no rules."
"Enough," Don Vanetti said, arriving on scene. He surveyed the damage. His expression was stone. "This ends now. Today. We find Don Orco. We kill him. We destroy whatever remains of his organization. No more back and forth. Just ending."
"How?" Nero asked. "They're in hiding. Deep hiding. We don't know where—"
"We'll find them." The don's voice was absolute. "Ceriano. You're good at reading people. Finding patterns. I want you working with intelligence. Find Don Orco. I don't care how."
Rio nodded. Because refusing wasn't an option.
But fragments whispered warnings: This is the endgame. This is where everything collapses. Find the target, execute the mission, watch everyone burn.
---
Back at the mansion, Rio worked with Ganzo's intelligence officers. Maps. Reports. Sightings. Patterns.
The fragments supplied analysis automatically. Hiding patterns. Psychology of desperate men. Resource requirements. Support structure needed.
After six hours, Rio found the pattern.
"Here," he said, pointing at the map. "Abandoned factory district. North edge of the city. Water access for escape. Close enough to loyal territory for support. Far enough from our operations to avoid detection."
Ganzo studied it. "How certain?"
"Seventy percent. Maybe eighty." Rio's fragments supplied the confidence. "It fits every parameter for long-term hiding while maintaining operational capability."
"That's good enough." Ganzo made calls. Coordinated reconnaissance.
Two hours later, confirmation came back. Don Orco's hideout found.
The don assembled everyone. Family meeting. This was it. The final push.
"We hit tonight," the don said. "Everyone participates. This is family business. The Orco family dies. All of them. Don Orco specifically. No survivors. No mercy. We end this war tonight."
Agreement all around.
Except Vanno. He sat silent. Distant. The speakeasy attack had broken something in him.
"Vanno," Nero said gently. "You don't have to go. You've done enough."
"No. I'll go." Vanno's voice was hollow. "I want to. I want to see it end."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm not sure about anything anymore. But I'm going."
Nero looked concerned but didn't argue. Everyone was breaking. Vanno was just more visible about it.
---
That afternoon, Rio found himself alone with Avilio for the first time in days.
"Tonight," Avilio said. Simple statement. "The Orcos fall. The war ends. Then comes our turn."
"Our turn?"
"The Vanettis. Don Vanetti specifically. Angelo's revenge." Avilio's voice was cold. Focused. "The Orco war has created the perfect chaos. Weakened the family. Made them vulnerable. After tonight, we move to final phase."
Rio's chest tightened. "How?"
"That's for me to execute. Your job is staying alive and maintaining position." Avilio studied him. "Can you do that? Or has Nero compromised you completely?"
"I can do my job."
"Can you? Because when the moment comes—when Don Vanetti has to die—you're going to be there. And Nero's going to know you were part of it. Can you handle that?"
Honest answer? No. Rio couldn't imagine watching Nero learn the truth. Couldn't imagine the betrayal in his eyes. Couldn't imagine surviving that look.
"I'll handle it," Rio lied.
"You better. Because if you compromise this—if you choose Nero over the mission—I'll kill you myself. Angelo Lagusa doesn't forgive weakness."
"I know."
"Do you? Because you've been weak for weeks. Emotional. Compromised. The person I knew in Chicago wouldn't have fallen for the target. That person understood detachment. Survival. Mission first."
"That person didn't exist. I've always been this way. You just didn't see it."
"Then you've always been a liability." Avilio turned to leave. Stopped. "One more thing. Corteo's planning to run. After tonight. He's done. Can't take it anymore. Wants to disappear before the final phase."
"Are you going to stop him?"
"No. He's not critical to revenge. If he wants to run, let him." Avilio's voice was matter-of-fact. "But you and I see this through. To the end. Whatever it takes. Understood?"
"Understood."
Avilio left.
Rio sat alone. Processing. Tonight the Orcos died. Then Angelo's revenge executed. Then everyone Rio cared about learned the truth.
Then everything burned.
The fragments offered no escape. 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.
---
Evening came too fast.
The entire Vanetti family assembled. Soldiers. Associates. Everyone armed. This was total commitment.
Twenty-five people to assault Don Orco's hideout. Overwhelming force. No chances taken.
Nero coordinated. Ganzo enforced. Don Vanetti observed. This was his show. His vengeance. His ending.
Rio stood with the group. Vanno beside him. Avilio nearby. All of them armed. All of them ready.
All of them breaking in different ways.
"This is it," Nero said to Rio quietly before they moved out. "After tonight, the war ends. We can start planning that life we talked about. Away from all this."
The fantasy again. The impossible dream. Rio wanted to believe it. Wanted to imagine a world where he and Nero could just—exist. Together. Without lies or violence or betrayal.
But that world didn't exist for people like them.
"Yeah," Rio said. "After tonight."
Nero kissed him. Quick. Hidden from view. "I love you."
"I love you too."
The words felt like goodbye.
They were.
---
The assault began at midnight.
The factory district was industrial wasteland. Abandoned buildings. Rusted equipment. Perfect hiding place for desperate men.
Don Orco's hideout was a reinforced warehouse. Guards posted. Defenses established. They knew the Vanettis were coming. They were ready.
But ready wasn't enough.
The Vanetti forces attacked from three sides simultaneously. Overwhelming firepower. Professional coordination. This wasn't a fight. This was execution.
The Orco guards fell quickly. The warehouse defenses collapsed.
Rio's fragments guided him through the chaos. Combat mode fully engaged. Duck. Fire. Move. Reload. His body knew this dance intimately.
They breached the interior. Found Don Orco's remaining forces making their last stand. Fifteen soldiers. Desperate. Cornered. Dangerous.
The fighting was brutal. Close quarters. No room for tactics. Just violence.
Rio saw Vanno ahead of him. Moving through the warehouse. Focused on something.
Then Rio saw it too. Don Orco. Making for the back exit. Trying to escape.
Vanno was closer. Pursuing. Gun raised.
"Vanno, wait—" Nero shouted. Trying to coordinate. Trying to keep his friend safe.
Vanno didn't wait. Charged after Don Orco. Into the kill zone where Orco soldiers were positioned.
Crossfire erupted.
Rio moved without thinking. The fragments screamed warnings but his body was already moving. Throwing himself forward. Toward Vanno. Toward the bullets.
He saw them. Saw the trajectory. Saw Vanno exposed. Saw the moment before impact.
Rio tackled Vanno. Knocked him down. Covered him.
The bullets hit Rio instead.
Multiple impacts. Vest catching some. Body taking others. Pain exploding through his system.
The fragments roared: You're hit. Bad. Shoulder, ribs, leg. You'll survive. You'll heal. But not fast enough. Not here.
Rio rolled off Vanno. Returned fire. Dropped the soldiers who'd shot him. Rage and survival instinct overriding pain.
Avilio appeared. Finished the remaining Orco soldiers. Cold. Efficient.
Nero reached them. "Rio! Vanno! Are you—"
"I'm fine," Vanno gasped. Looking at Rio in horror. "But Rio—you're hit—"
"I'm fine." Rio tried to stand. Failed. The leg wound was bad. The fragments could minimize pain but couldn't fix damage instantly.
"You're not fine," Nero said. Hands on Rio. Checking wounds. "You're bleeding—"
"I'll heal. I always do." Rio pointed ahead. "Don Orco. He's getting away."
Nero looked torn. Between pursuing the target and staying with Rio.
"Go," Rio said. "Finish it. I'll be here."
"I'm not leaving you—"
"Go!" Rio's voice was hard. "End this. That's what we came for."
Nero hesitated. Then nodded. Squeezed Rio's hand. "Don't die. That's an order."
He ran after Don Orco. Ganzo and others following.
Vanno stayed with Rio. "Why did you do that? Why did you save me?"
"Because you're my friend."
"I almost got you killed."
"You're worth it."
Vanno looked at him. Really looked. "You keep saving people. Nero. Me. Others. Like you don't care if you die. Like your life doesn't matter. Why?"
Because I've died before. Because death is temporary for me. Because I don't know how to care about my own survival when I've survived so many times it lost meaning.
"Because someone has to," Rio said instead.
Gunshots ahead. Final confrontation. Then silence.
Nero returned. Blood on his clothes. Grim satisfaction on his face. "It's done. Don Orco's dead. The war's over."
Victory. Complete victory.
But Rio, bleeding on the warehouse floor, felt only emptiness.
---
They got Rio to Cerotto. The doctor worked quickly. Extracted bullets. Stitched wounds. Looked at Rio with growing suspicion.
"You heal impossibly fast," Cerotto said quietly while bandaging. "This is the third time. Bullet wounds that should cripple you. You're functioning within days. That's not normal."
"I know."
"What are you?"
"I don't know. Just—lucky, I guess."
"Luck doesn't explain accelerated healing. Luck doesn't explain perfect health despite repeated trauma." Cerotto's voice dropped. "I won't tell anyone. Doctor-patient privilege. But Rio—whatever you are, be careful. People notice. And what people notice, they question."
"I'll be careful."
"Will you? Because you keep throwing yourself into danger like you're immortal. Eventually, that catches up. Even to people like you."
Maybe. The fragments weren't sure. Rio had died violently before. Would die violently again. But not tonight.
Tonight he'd survived. Again.
At the cost of more questions he couldn't answer.
---
The Vanetti family celebrated.
The war was over. The Orco family destroyed. Don Orco dead. Their operations eliminated. Their territory absorbed.
Lawless belonged to the Vanettis completely.
The celebration at the mansion was raucous. Drinks flowing. Soldiers telling stories. The euphoria of survival and victory.
Rio sat apart. Body aching. Fragments processing. Watching everyone celebrate while knowing what was coming.
Angelo's revenge. The final phase. The truth that would destroy everything.
Nero found him. Sat beside him. "You keep saving people. Vanno this time. Me twice. Others. You're going to run out of lives eventually."
"Maybe."
"I'm serious. You're not invincible. No matter what you think." Nero's hand found his. "I need you alive. Understand? Not as a soldier. Not as an associate. I need you. Specifically. Alive and with me."
"I know."
"Do you? Because you act like you don't care if you die. Like you're—" Nero struggled for words. "Like you're already dead and just haven't stopped moving yet."
The observation was too accurate. Too close to Rio's reality.
"I care about staying alive," Rio said. Partial truth. "I care about you. About us. About—" He stopped. "About having something worth surviving for."
"Good. Because after tonight, we're leaving. I'm serious about that." Nero's voice was intense. "The war's over. The family's stable. My father can manage without me for a while. We're taking time. Going somewhere. Just—existing together. No violence. No family business. Just us."
The fantasy was beautiful. Impossible. But beautiful.
"When?" Rio asked.
"Soon. A few days to settle things. Then we go." Nero squeezed his hand. "I love you. And I'm not losing you to this life. Not after everything."
Rio wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe they could escape. That somehow, impossibly, love was enough.
But the fragments knew better.
Angelo's revenge was coming. The betrayal was inevitable. And when it happened, Nero would know everything. Would know Rio had been lying from the beginning. Would know the person he loved was the weapon aimed at his family.
And love wouldn't survive that.
"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.
They sat together. Watching the celebration. Two people on the edge of destruction, pretending they had a future.
---
Late that night, Rio limped back to the brewery. Exhausted. Wounded. Done.
Corteo was packing. Seriously packing. Bags. Documents. Money. Escape preparations.
"You're really leaving," Rio said.
"I have to. I can't—" Corteo's voice broke. "I can't watch what comes next. Angelo's planning something. Something big. And when it happens, when the truth comes out, people are going to die. Including you. Probably."
"I know."
"Then come with me. Leave. Tonight. Before it's too late." Corteo's desperation was palpable. "We can disappear. Start over. Somewhere the Vanettis and Angelo can't find us. We can just—survive."
"I can't."
"Why not? What's keeping you here? The mission you don't believe in anymore? The family you're betraying? The man you love who's going to hate you when he learns the truth?"
"All of it. None of it." Rio sat heavily. "I don't know anymore, Corteo. I just know I can't leave. Can't run. Have to see it through to the end."
"Even if the end kills you?"
"Even then."
Corteo looked at him with grief. "I've known you since we were kids. Survived the massacre together. Tried to build something after. And I'm watching you destroy yourself. For what? A mission you don't want? A love that's doomed? What's the point?"
"Maybe there is no point. Maybe it's just—" Rio gestured helplessly. "What I do. Who I am. Someone who stays until it collapses. Who cares too much about people who'll hate me. Who can't walk away even when walking away is smart."
"That's not strength. That's suicide."
"Maybe it's both."
Corteo finished packing. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning. Early. Before anyone notices. If you change your mind—if you come to your senses—meet me at the train station. Six AM. I'll wait until six-thirty. Then I'm gone."
"I won't be there."
"I know. But I had to offer." Corteo pulled him into an embrace. Tight. "Goodbye, Rio. Whatever happens—I'm sorry I couldn't save you from yourself."
"I'm sorry I couldn't save you from me."
They separated. Corteo went to his room. Rio to his.
Alone in the dark, Rio stared at nothing. Feeling the weight of everything.
The war was over. The Vanettis had won. Rio had proven himself completely. Nero loved him. Vanno trusted him. The family accepted him.
Everything was perfect.
Which meant everything was about to fall apart.
The fragments whispered: This is the calm. The moment before the storm. The last peace before total destruction.
Somewhere in Lawless, Avilio was planning the final phase. Angelo's revenge entering its endgame.
Somewhere else, Nero was dreaming about escape. About a future with Rio that would never exist.
And here, Rio sat in the dark. Knowing what was coming. Unable to stop it. Unable to walk away.
Just waiting for the inevitable collapse.
Tomorrow, Corteo would leave. Smart. Sane. Surviving.
Rio would stay. Stupid. Broken. Doomed.
And when the truth came out—when the betrayal executed—everyone would burn.
The fragments mourned in advance.
So did Rio.