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A tick forms under her left eye;bingo.
My father clears his throat, nodding to himself. “Well, okay, then. She’s family. I’ll see to it.”
“As if there was ever any question, old man. I’m thecapo, remember?”
Caroline and Juliet finally re-enter the ballroom, Luca and Marco hot on their trail; their only job tonight is to keep an eye on the sisters, ensure their absolute safety.
My cell phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it from my jacket to scan the screen and see an unsaved number pop up. A virtual stranger, someone my father will be delighted to know I’ve formed a truce with.
Ready when u r.
Rolling my eyes at the Irishman’s insistence on shorthand—it’s not that fucking hard to type out a full word—I let my eyes drift around the room as my wife drops to her seat at my side, gulping down a drink of her ginger ale. At the back entrance, I catch sight of Gia and a tall, hooded figure I’ve yet to formally meet.
But I don’t need to know him to know he can do what I need. According to Kal, he’s the next best thing. A finisher for Stonemore, capable of things Kal himself isn’t willing to do.
Which is why I involved him in this.
Gia gives me a short nod, and I turn my head just as Dominic ascends the stage stairs, waving his hands dramatically to little applause.
He adjusts his blue tie, gripping the edges of the podium as he stares out at the crowd, tactfully avoiding eye contact with our entire table. Mrs. Harrison stands, going to join him, but Juliet and Caroline remain seated, blank expressions on their faces.
Leaning over, I place my palm on Caroline’s thigh through her sequined dress, giving a gentle squeeze. Her hand comes down over mine, linking our fingers, and every bit of unease that weaseled its way inside me seems to melt away.
She’s a balm to the chapped, burnt spots on my soul. Not the solution. Not the fix. But the provision of just enough relief that I feel like I can get through life.
“King’s Trace,” Dominic begins, lips grazing the microphone as he shifts his weight from side to side, appearing uncomfortable under the harsh spotlights pointed at him. I wonder if he has a sixth sense, one warning him of what’s to come. “A town I’ve loved for what feels like my entire life. I’ve been so proud to serve you the last few years. It’s a privilege to be elected, and even more to earn the unanimous support of your constituents.”
Unanimous, my ass. Like organized crime isn’t the reason he got elected.
Like he doesn’t owe everything he is, and could ever hope to be, to us.
“I know things look bleak, with the recent deaths of a couple of my closest colleagues, but rest assured, I’d have Sheldon and Todd’s full support in this campaign relaunch. In fact, in the interest of full transparency with you folks, the public I’ve chosen to serve and represent, I want to officially announce my anti-crime initiative. If elected, I’ll be working closely with police to enact measures that ensure, specifically, our little town’s safety, but eventually the safety of all of Maine. So we can once again enjoy life without fear of harm. So we can sleep at night and not be afraid of the horrors lurking outside.”
His gaze falls to mine, and a smile curves over my lips; they curl over my teeth, stretching painfully, and Dominic clears his throat, pulling against the knot in his tie.
A reporter sticks a hand up, and he points to them, granting questions. “How will you combat the presence of organized crime in King’s Trace? And what will you do to end the drug trade? The Montaltos won’t go down easily.”
“Certainly not.” Dominic chuckles, and a low murmur spreads through the crowd. My father rolls his eyes, and when I glance back to see where Gia and the hooded figure are, I see they’ve disappeared.
Perfect.Everything’s happening as scheduled.
“I’m sure many of you have noticed that it’s just my wife and me on stage tonight, representing the family values I’ve always endorsed. You probably also noticed that a couple of months ago, my oldest daughter, Caroline, got married to a Montalto.”
A few gasps sound around the room, but for the most part, people seem unimpressed. Heads turn, whispers float in the air, and Caroline’s thumb strokes the back of my hand.
“That being said, I think with Elia as my son-in-law, we’ll have a much simpler time convincing the Montaltos to join the effort to ensure safety to King’s Trace residents. In fact, I’ve got a plan—”
His words become inaudible as the microphone cuts off, a crackling sound crawling through the speakers. He glances around, confused, still trying to speak into the mic. Static fills the room, signaling an audio clip, and after a few beats when he realizes he isn’t regaining control of the situation, he begins to panic. Pointing at an aide and talking animatedly, he rushes to one side of the stage, slightly obscuring his body. Probably telling his staff to investigate, but it won’t do any good.
Mrs. Harrison stands and smiles out at the crowd, trying to appease them. Act like nothing is wrong, the same way she does with her family.
Dom returns to the podium, eyes scanning the crowd for the I.T. guys, but to no avail. They’ve been relieved for the evening, and the media room is completely sealed off, controlled from a remote location. This campaign just became a ticking time bomb.
MY FATHER’S FACE reddens the longer static fills the ballroom, giving his audience a sneak-peek into his true personality.
But I don’t need the reminder. I’ve lived it.
And it’s high past time for his reign of terror to end.
