Chapter 12
The old capos returned for the decision.
I did not remove all of them.
Some expected that.
Good.
Fear should not become the only proof I still deserved my chair.
Captain Mercer asked:
“You’re letting men who questioned you stay?”
“Yes.”
He frowned.
“Why?”
“Because questioning me was not the betrayal.”
Silence.
“Planning my incapacitation was.”
That distinction mattered.
Two capos had attended discussions but rejected any manufactured crisis.
They stayed.
One had agreed to the temporary-transfer plan without asking how it would happen.
He lost command access pending review.
Carlo lost independent crew authority.
Victor lost everything tied to my name.
No security role.
No personal men.
No council access.
No authority over Titan.
He laughed when I told him.
“That’s it?”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You also stop being my second.”
That hurt.
There.
Not rank.
Relationship.
He stared.
“You can’t erase thirty years.”
“I’m not.”
I leaned forward.
“History remains.”
Pause.
“Access does not.”
His face changed.
Good.
Victor had confused the two.
Because he had known me longest, he believed he deserved permanent proximity.
Not anymore.
Carlo asked whether Victor would be exiled.
“No.”
That surprised everyone.
Victor too.
“He remains family.”
My cousin laughed bitterly.
“You expect me to sit at holidays after this?”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I expect nothing.”
That unsettled him.
“You come if invited. You speak if people want contact. You rebuild what can be rebuilt.”
“And if nothing can?”
“Then nothing can.”
No threat.
No forced reconciliation.
Just consequence.
Mercer leaned back.
“You’ve become softer.”
I almost smiled.
“Maybe.”
That answer bothered him more than denial.
May you like
Because if softness meant a three-year-old maid’s daughter could enter my study without fearing me, I was no longer sure softness deserved contempt.
Power that cannot survive gentleness is probably weaker than it pretends.
