Chapter 3
Linda had kept the first threat from me because Emma asked her to.
That made me angry.
Then I remembered who was lying in the hospital bed.
I kept the anger where it belonged.
“What threat?”
Linda opened her purse and removed a small voice recorder.
Margaret went pale.
Interesting.
Linda pressed play.
My mother’s voice filled the room.
“You can make this easy, Linda. Take Emma somewhere quiet before Adrian becomes attached to the pregnancy.”
Linda answered:
“He’s her husband.”
Margaret laughed.
“He’s a Moretti before he’s anything.”
I closed my eyes.
I had heard that sentence my whole life.
My father used it.
My grandfather used it.
Apparently my mother had never stopped believing it.
The recording continued.
Margaret offered Linda money.
Not to hurt Emma.
To persuade her daughter to leave me before the birth.
Linda refused.
My mother’s voice became harder.
“Then don’t complain when Adrian eventually learns the child isn’t what he thinks.”
The recording ended.
I looked at Margaret.
“You planned the accusation months ago.”
She crossed her arms.
“I had concerns.”
“About what?”
“Emma.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Margaret looked at my wife.
“Her family.”
Linda stiffened.
There.
Blood.
Class.
Old Mafia poison dressed like concern.
The Parkers owned no crews.
No compounds.
No old alliance.
Linda had worked most of her life managing a small catering company. Emma grew up outside organized-family politics entirely.
That was one of the reasons I loved her.
Margaret considered it contamination.
“You never wanted her inside Moretti,” I said.
“I wanted you to understand what marriage costs.”
“I chose the cost.”
“You didn’t understand it.”
Emma spoke from the bed.
“He did.”
Margaret glared at her.
“You have no idea what you’ve done to him.”
I turned.
“What has she done?”
“You stopped listening.”
“To you?”
“To the family.”
There it was.
Emma had not weakened my leadership.
She had weakened Margaret’s access to it.
The baby made that change permanent.
A wife could theoretically be driven out.
A son could not.
At least not without first convincing me he was not mine.
I looked at the second identification bracelet.
“You were going to swap them.”
Margaret did not answer.
Linda did.
May you like
“She was going to make Adrian believe the hospital handed Emma the wrong child.”
My mother’s silence confirmed it.
