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… bash him in the head with it. He slumps against the table, a gash on his head. The other men jerk, finally giving me their full attention.
“This,” I say, holding the now bloody pendant up for everyone to see, “belonged to my father. Many of you were at his funeral and saw my mother put it on me. I am the rightful heir to this business. I have worked hard over the past five years learning to be a fighter. Learning how to make alliances. Learning how to stay alive. I know what it takes.”
I make a point of looking at Oliver, who’s now groaning and holding onto his head. “Some of you may still see me as a child. But a child wouldn’t do that.” I nod at Oliver. “I know what it takes to be ruthless. And I know what it takes to be kind.
“Now,” I continue, putting my pendant back around my neck, “I don’t want to lead with fear. I want to lead as a man you can respect, and that might take some time. But you all respected my father. And Iammy father’s son. I am asking you, not telling you, to accept me as your new leader. I won’t stop until I have all your respect.”
The room is silent.
Until the first clap comes. A man stands up—I recognize him as David Garcia, one of my father’s oldest employees. He was old even when I was a kid. He has to be pushing eighty by now. Judging by how the other men look at him, it’s clear they respect him.
“I see your father in you,” he says in a warm, rich voice. “And that’s more than enough for me. I’m more than willing to give you a chance, Antonio.” He looks at the other men, his lips sneering slightly at the sight of Oliver. “Antonio has a right to his family’s business. I accept him as our new boss.”
“So do I,” another man says.
“And I,” someone else chimes in.
Soon, the entire room is standing and showing me their respect. For some, I knew it’s real. For others, I’m sure it’s just an act. That’s the thing I learned about Mafia politics—it’s always evolving and changing. I’m sure I’m going to have to deal with some of these men wanting to kill me. But what’s new? I’ve been dealing with people trying to kill me for the past five years. What’s another sixty years?
Killian claps me on the back. I know I have at least one ally I can completely trust. Killian was with me when I was at my lowest. He’s a true friend. I can’t wait to help him achieve his own success someday.
I grab my father’s pendant and hold it close to my heart. Looking out at all these men, all I can think is—This is for you, Dad.
I’ve finally done it.
I’m the new leader of the Moretti Mafia.
* * *
I arrive backat my childhood home. I haven’t returned to my apartment since I killed Franco. I don’t think I could bear seeing it empty. I told Nina to leave, and now, I miss her so fucking much. It hurts like nothing ever has.
Mom welcomes me inside and to the dinner table, where she has food ready to go. Cecilia, Mia, and the twins are already seated.
“I just got off the phone with Emilia,” Mom says as she scoops food up for me.
“Ma, I can feed myself,” I tell her, but she just waves me away.
Mia rolls her eyes while Cecilia leans in close to me. “She’s just happy you’re here. I’m so happy you’re here.” She grabs my hand under the table, squeezing it. I squeeze back.
“And,” Mom continues, setting a plate full of food down before me, “she’ll be coming from LA with Marco later this week. And so will Francesca and Leo. I also called Gemma and told her she needed to come over with Viktor so we can all have a family meal together.”
“Without Franco,” I mutter.
Cecilia raises her glass. “Hear, hear.”
“Why do you hate Uncle Franco so much?” Luca asks, taking a large bite of his chicken. Mom scolds him for chewing with his mouth open.
I exchange a look with my mom before turning back to Luca. He’s only ten. He doesn’t understand. “He wasn’t a good man. He tried to hurt me. Now, he’s gone.”
“Gone where?” Lucia asks. She sticks her tongue at Luca as he swipes food from her plate.
“He’s dead,” Mom explains.
“What?” Lucia’s eyes begin to water. “How?”
“In a car accident,” she says. “It’s ok, honey. You can cry.” I know it pains Mom to say that. After everything Franco did to her, I know she hates him, but for the twins, Franco was the only father they knew.
Lucia buries her head in Mom’s arm as she sobs. Luca is trying to stay strong, but I can tell it’s taking a lot out of him to hold back his tears. I remember how it was for me on the day of my dad’s funeral. I tried so hard to keep it together. It wasn’t until my sisters told me it was ok to cry that I finally let go.
