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“However,” Sandro goes on, “I am ashamed to admit that the killerwasone of my own. A Castellani.”
Anna-Vittoria raises an eyebrow, unimpressed by Sandro’s claim. “Of course you’d want to protect your brother, Don Castellani. Family loyalty is a powerful thing.”
Her skepticism is understandable. I can’t let Sandro fight this battle alone. “That’s why I’m here as well, ma’am,” I say, drawing Anna-Vittoria’s attention to me.
“The Bernardi Enforcer,” she muses, studying me with honey-caramel eyes. Her mouth tips up in a half-smile. “Whatdoesbring you to this little gathering?”
“Truth,” I reply without hesitation. “I came to support Sandro’s claim. Julian is not the killer.”
“But of course a man like you would want to protect his lover,” she replies.
For a woman who claims to ignore what the other Los Angeles Families are up to, she sure as shit has a lot of inside information.
Sandro tries again. “The killer was Silvano Rizzo, one of my Capos. He was the one responsible for Vincenzo’s death.”
Anna-Vittoria seems taken aback at last. “You’d have me believe that your Capo moved without your orders, Don Castellani?”
“I would.” Sandro hesitates, and then admits, “It’s time to clean house. After my father’s death, I should have reconsidered his appointments. I have not had time until now. But I can assure you—“
She cuts him off, turning back to me. “That does not explain your presence.”
“I’m here because—many years ago—my father gave the order for Caroline Castellani to be killed. Rizzo was the one who carried out that killing. And his murder of your cousin was an attempt to shift the blame to Julian, when Julian began looking into his mother’s death.”
Sandro and I already agreed to keep my father’s name clear from Vinnie’s murder. We’re looking to stop one war without starting another. So Rizzo can take the blame for it all—and Julian and I will deal with Aldo Bernardi.
Anna-Vittoria is smart, though. She seems to sense there’s more to the story. “And why would a Bernardi stand against his Don? His own father?”
“Because sometimes loyalty to the truth is greater than loyalty to Family. And because I don’t want to see two houses go to war over my father’s sins. A war would only serve his interests, not yours.”
Anna-Vittoria considers my words. She may not trust us completely, but she seems willing to entertain the idea that we’re telling the truth.
“Interesting,” she murmurs. “Very interesting.”
I hear a rustle in a nearby bush. The tingle at the back of my neck tells me that there’s a gun trained on me, but it’s to be expected. Anna Vittoria isn’t armed—that I can tell, anyway.
Except with difficult questions.
“So has the son turned against his father?” she asks.
“My father turned on his Family first, and my brother followed his lead. But this isn’t about betrayal. This is about preventing unnecessary bloodshed. I’m ashamed of my father’s actions—in the past, and now—and I want to make up for them.”
“Leo is an honorable man,” Sandro adds, his voice firm. “He doesn’t want to see our houses destroy themselves over lies and manipulations.”
Anna-Vittoria’s gaze lingers on me for a moment before she speaks again. “You must understand my hesitation, Signor Bernardi. It is not every day that a member of your Family stands beside a Castellani—or shows honor.”
I give a little huff of laughter. “Believe me, I get it. But here I am. I hope you can look beyond my Family name and see that I’m telling you the truth.”
Sandro spreads out his hands in a formal, pleading gesture. “I cannot allow this war to begin, Anna-Vittoria. It will bring ruin to us both, while others take advantage of our weakened state. I have come to ask you what I can do to stop it before it begins.”
She studies us both for a long moment. Finally, with a sigh, she nods. “As far as I am aware, I have no enemies,” she says. “I have remained neutral in Los Angeles’ power struggles, taking little interest in the games you men play. However,” her voice drops, serious and calm, “I agree that a war would be destructive for both our Families. But if I am to call off my Family’s war on the Castellanis, I will need something in return.”
Sandro leans forward slightly. “Name it. What do you want in exchange for peace?”
“I want the killer, of course. This Silvano Rizzo.”
Sandro’s jaw clenches at her demand. It’s not unexpected, but I know exactly what he’s about to say.
“I can’t do that,” he replies, his voice strained. “Rizzo has already been promised to my brother.”
