Chapter 13
My mother eventually told me something about my father I did not know.
Matteo had almost refused her request to spare Lawson.
Not because he wanted Evelyn punished.
Because he feared mercy would look weak.
Miriam said:
“Then I asked him who exactly he was performing strength for.”
I laughed.
That sounded like her.
He had no answer.
So he let Victor leave.
Years later Matteo admitted it was one of the best decisions he made.
Not because Victor became grateful.
Because a baby named Garrett grew up with a father instead of a family legend about vengeance.
Irony.
Evelyn turned the mercy back into legend anyway.
“You regret it?”
I asked.
“Saving them?”
“Yes.”
Miriam looked offended.
“No.”
“Even after the gala?”
“His foot does not rewrite my choice.”
There.
That sentence stayed with me.
People often reassess kindness after being hurt by the person who benefited.
Miriam refused.
Her mercy had been right then.
Garrett’s cruelty was wrong now.
Separate.
Clean.
I needed that.
Because part of me wanted to hate every Lawson.
Easy.
Lazy.
Instead I judged people.
Garrett.
Evelyn.
Victor.
Each.
That changed how I handled the guests from the anniversary too.
One of the nine, Stephen Harcourt, actively promised support to a Lawson council in exchange for contracts.
He lost Carbone business.
Marian Wells knowingly helped Evelyn recruit family support.
She lost private meeting access.
Others simply attended.
No punishment.
Power becomes stupid when anger removes distinctions.
Miriam approved.
“That sounded almost wise.”
“Almost?”
“You’re twenty-eight.”
I stared.
May you like
She smiled.
Apparently becoming head of a criminal family still does not outrank motherhood.
