Chapter 11
Gerald ripped the capo pin from his lapel.
Not surrender.
Rage.
He threw it onto the garden table.
“You think I did all this because she whispered in my ear?”
His finger pointed at Evelyn.
“She didn't make you refuse Harbor Street.”
Valentina watched him.
“She didn't make you turn this family into a nursery.”
His breathing grew heavier.
“She didn't make twenty men ask permission before speaking because your daughter might be sleeping upstairs.”
Valentina’s face remained still.
Gerald stepped closer.
“You want my reason?”
“Yes.”
He laughed.
“I buried your father’s enemies.”
“I carried men out of burning cars.”
“I took bullets before you were old enough to order wine.”
His voice broke into something uglier.
“And then Carlo dies and leaves the family to you.”
His eyes moved over her suit.
Her ring.
Her heels.
“Twenty-six years old.”
A contemptuous smile.
“And I'm supposed to bow because your last name matches his.”
Valentina answered quietly:
“You wanted the chair.”
“I earned the right to be considered.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
Gerald’s nostrils flared.
“To men like you, it never is.”
He looked toward the senior capos.
“You all know it.”
Several men shifted.
His grievance was real.
That made it more dangerous.
Gerald saw their discomfort.
His confidence returned.
“There.”
“You know exactly what I'm saying.”
He turned toward Valentina.
“You were given what I spent twenty years bleeding for.”
Evelyn laughed softly.
Gerald snapped toward her.
She smiled.
“And that makes frightening a toddler noble?”
His jaw tightened.
“Shut up.”
Her eyes brightened.
“Or what?”
“You'll swing the belt at me?”
A few capos looked down.
Gerald’s face darkened.
Evelyn continued.
“You want to be boss so badly you can barely breathe.”
Her voice became crueler.
“But you still needed my family name, my uncle’s tunnel, my contacts, my plan—”
She leaned closer.
“You couldn't even stage your own betrayal.”
Gerald grabbed her wrist.
Valentina moved.
Not striking.
She trapped his forearm and forced his hand away.
Gerald stared at her.
“Protecting her now?”
“No.”
Valentina released him.
“Stopping you from pretending rage makes you stronger.”
The words landed.
Gerald’s face tightened.
Then Mateo stepped forward.
“Gerald.”
The old capo’s voice carried authority.
“Did you plan to remove Valentina today?”
Gerald looked around.
“Yes.”
“Did you plan to use Lily to provoke her?”
A pause.
Gerald lifted his chin.
“Yes.”
“Did you know Greco men were inside Carbone territory?”
“Yes.”
Mateo looked toward the other capos.
The garden grew quiet.
Gerald saw what was happening.
He laughed.
“You think this is a trial?”
“No,” Mateo said.
“This is memory.”
He looked around.
“So every man here remembers exactly what Gerald just admitted.”
Gerald’s confidence faltered.
Then he reached for one last weapon.
“You want truth?”
His eyes moved toward Valentina.
“Ask her who gave me the old greenhouse key in the first place.”
Valentina stopped.
Gerald smiled.
“That key wasn't mine.”
His gaze moved toward one of the oldest men at the table.
Vincent Caruso.
May you like
Vincent went pale.
The betrayal had another layer.
