Page 113 of The Hidden Heir

Joseph Romano takes a deep breath and says, “When I asked you to get your house in order, obliterating the entire Mancuso bloodline is not what I meant.”

“I did what had to be done. They were a threat, and they put me in an impossible situation. There was no other way around it.”

The others frown, and some have a few things they’d like to say, but Luca raises his hand before any of them can speak up. The air shifts across the room, and I feel the chill running down my spine.

“Let’s put it to a vote,” he says. “Who thinks I should keep my seat?”

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for me to realize that, aside from Johnny Mancini and a couple of other guys, Luca doesn’t have the support he needs. It doesn’t bode well for the syndicate, but it doesn’t do much for the Camorra either. The Petrucci family is still one of the most powerful in Chicago, despite our losses.

And with the Mancusos off the game board altogether, I’m surprised their supporters are still voting against Luca. Even Romano appears unconvinced, and it makes my stomach quicken with uneasiness.

Luca, however, remains calm, controlled, in perfect mastery of his own emotions. The only sign that he’s working hard to keep it together is a subtle throb in his chiseled jaw, because everything else about him exudes serious power.

“I guess I have to come up with a better offer then,” he says, then snaps his fingers.

A split second later, gunshots ring through the hallway.

Romano jumps out of his seat first, then others, immediately alarmed. Solomon storms into the room, along with several of our security guards. Luca smiles broadly.

“I tried doing things the easy way, Joseph. I tried doing things your way. Fortunately and unfortunately at the same time, Caroline and Mauro decided to keep pushing me until we reached this point, where, whether you like it or not, we’re going to start doing things my way,” Luca says.

There are enough guns trained on every Camorra leader present in this room before any of them have a chance to lunge at our people. My blood runs cold, but I understand the mechanism behind this move. It’s a power play, and Luca isn’t walking out of here without his well-deserved victory.

Romano scowls at him. “What the fuck are you playing at, Petrucci?”

“I’ll put it to a vote again,” Luca replies. “Vote in my favor or die. It’s that simple. I have no problem putting your sons or your daughters or your third-degree cousins or your widows in charge, if that’s what needs to be done to change how the Camorra operates. You’re not fucking royalty. You’re all expendable. But I’d rather get this done with you, because you’re also survivors.”

“You’re forcing us to vote for you,” Romano says, fury burning all over his face.

“Well, I can’t think of a better way to get the organization to make some meaningful changes across the board,” Luca says. “How many lives were taken? How many futures were destroyed because our families wanted to make business alliances or preserve their precious bloodlines? I was one of the main culprits for a while, actually, until it dawned on me that we’ll never survive in today’s age, not like this. Not with the old methods.”

“What methods are you suggesting?” the Widow Caruso asks.

Luca shrugs. “Something better. We make business deals without trading our sons and daughters. We work out better agreements with the cops. For fuck’s sake, our intelligence networks are good. When did we give it up as a weapon against the authorities? The Russians and the Irish won’t hesitate to come after us unless we present a united front. How the fuck are we going to do that when there are Mancusos in our midst, plotting and killing and lying through their teeth, and for what?”

“There aren’t any Mancusos left, isn’t that what you said?” Romano scoffs.

“It’s the mentality behind the Mancusos that pushed us to this point. And that’s what I vow to obliterate. All you have to do is let me take charge, and I’ll show you it’s worth the risk.”

“Let you take charge?”

“My life would’ve been different, had it not been for these machinations.” I raise my voice beside my husband. “The Petruccis killed my father. The Mancusos killed my mother and tried to force me into situations I did not want for myself. I almost died, while my son was used as a bargaining chip. It cannot happen again. Not to me, not to anyone.”

Luca gives me a sideways glance. I promised I wouldn’t intervene, but the softness in his eyes tells me I did the right thing in this moment. It feels like the right thing. And it gives everyone around the table some food for thought.

Joseph Romano takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Fine,” he says, “we’ll give it a go. But failure will be yours alone to contend with, Luca.”

“I won’t fail.”

“Did you have fun at the fair?” I ask Michael as we walk through the Petrucci mansion’s doors.

“Yes, Mama!”

I set him down and Susie comes over to take him, along with the plush giraffe Luca won for him at the rubber duckie shooting range. It was our first outing as a family, and I doubt I’ll be able to wipe the smiles from our faces for a while.

“His cheeks are red,” Luca chuckles, watching Michael as he runs around the giggling Susie before they reach the stairs. “He definitely had a good time.”

“So did I,” I say and pull him into my arms.