Page 137 of Marry Me Not
“I don’t believe it.” Marco said from the far end of the table. He was one of the old guard, a man who’d known my mother since before I was born. He shook his head slowly. “Vita’s not capable of something like that.”
“My brothers and I were raised by her,” I said. “We can tell you firsthand that she is capable of this and considerably worse. I want you to ask yourselves, why has she not said a word about any of this to you? She had all the pieces we were missing all along. She knew exactly why the Santoros were targeting us. And yet she stayed silent. She knew that helping us track down my father’s killers would expose her own role in all of this.”
The mood around the table had changed. Men who’d spent years accepting Vita’s polished version of herself were starting to revisit what they thought they knew. Doubt tightened their mouths. Their bodies drew back from the table, as if to put some distance between them and the woman they had been prepared to install at the head of the family.
Vita’s composure held, but barely. It was clearly difficult for her to remain still beneath their scrutiny. She’d spent her entire life curating what other people saw, polishing every gesture and every expression until the performance was perfect.
Being seen for what she really was terrified her. And now, every man in the room could see the rot beneath the surface.
“Everything I have ever done,” she said, a tremor entering her voice, “has been to protect this family.”
“No,” I said. “Everything you have ever done has been to hoard power and protect yourself. You’ve spent nearly thirty years doing an excellent job of convincing everyone otherwise. But it’s over now. You will never lead this family.” I turned back to the capos. “Dominic and I have been working on a deal. We see a path out of this feud that doesn’t require any more spilled blood. Dominic, will you do the honors?”
Dominic began walking the capos through the terms we had put together, and when he reached the numbers, the mood shifted again. Their remaining skepticism gave way to calculation, then to relief. My version of the Ferraros’ future offered peace that would make us stronger. And the deal would put money in their pockets that was even better than what Vita had tried to offer them.
She remained rigid in her chair, but the strain was beginning to show in the tight line of her mouth and the shallow rise and fall of her chest. She could feel the vote slipping away from her.
When Dominic finished, she surged to her feet. “This is absurd. You’re asking these men to simply set aside the fact that this family—” she gestured at Dominic “—killed your father.”
“I’m asking them to consider the full history,” I said. “Including the part where our family’s choices created this feud in the first place. You’ve claimed for thirty years that you built this family alongside my father. That may be true to some extent. But the quality that separates a don from a consort is that a don understands that the interests of the family come before their own.”
Her face hardened, but I didn’t give her a chance to interrupt.
“What you did thirty years ago is the opposite of that. It would have cost my father almost nothing to help the Santoros. It would have ended this before it began. But you were so determined to control him—so unwilling to allow him any connection to the woman carrying his child—that you pushed him into a decision that ultimately cost him his life.” I held her gaze. “If his blood is on anyone’s hands, it’s on yours.”
The room was absolutely silent.
“When it comes to the Santoro family,” I said, “I consider the matter settled.”
“That’s not for you to decide. You are not don yet,” Vita said. Her voice remained steady, but her face betrayed her. She knew what was coming. Maybe she had known from the moment Dominic walked through the door and brought the past she’d tried to bury with him.
From the far end of the table, George lifted his hand.
“I’m with Cosimo.”
Around the table, the hands went up one by one. Eight, nine, ten…
I shot a look at Rom, who still had his arms down. He met me with a serious expression, then broke into a grin and put his hand up.
Funny. I flicked my gaze back to Vita.
What now, Mother?
The expression on her face was one I’d never seen there before.
Defeat.
I’d won.
She turned to Dominic, the last of her mask melting away. Beneath it was pure, undisguised hatred.
“I told Gino you’d return,” she hissed. “Told him he should have taken care of you and your wretched mother once and for all. But he was too sentimental.”
Dominic looked completely unruffled. Almost bored. “I imagine that was deeply frustrating for a woman who believed she could have everything she wanted.”
Mother picked up her purse and walked out without another word.
The door shut behind her.
