Chapter 6
Marcus wanted command.
That part was simple.
But not in the way I first assumed.
He did not want me dead.
He wanted certainty.
For twelve years he had been my capo.
Second in many rooms.
First in none.
He knew what happened if I died suddenly.
Factions.
Arguments.
Old branches testing each other.
He feared chaos.
So Katherine offered him a structure.
Temporary authority.
Preapproved support.
No crisis.
It appealed to him.
Then temporary started looking permanent.
He admitted that too.
“If people accepted me once, they’d accept me again.”
Exactly.
“And Clara?”
He looked ashamed.
“She was the symbol.”
I hated that word.
Of what?
Continuity.
A child near Katherine.
Marcus at the table.
Family appearing stable.
Visual proof that D’Angelo survived without me.
He had turned my daughter into scenery for legitimacy.
Not harmed her.
Not hated her.
Something colder.
Used her existence to make adults feel secure.
I removed him from operational command that night.
No violence.
No exile.
Just no second chair.
He looked devastated.
Good.
Consequences should match what someone abused.
May you like
He abused proximity to authority.
So he lost it.
