Chapter 9
Michael called Mateo uncle because blood had finally become useful.
Dominic was Mateo’s cousin.
Close enough.
In their world, titles stretched when people wanted family to sound warmer than history deserved.
Michael stood inside the chapel.
Dante entered first.
Javier beside him.
Mateo and Sebastian behind.
Teresa and Clara stayed near the rear.
No one trusted anyone enough to stand comfortably.
Michael smiled.
“This is almost beautiful.”
Dante stared.
“You used my son.”
“Yes.”
The direct answer surprised him.
“You told Javier to weaken Leo’s place.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he might act.”
“I knew he was angry.”
Javier stepped forward.
Michael looked at him.
“I didn’t tell you to hurt the boy.”
Javier’s face darkened.
“No.”
Michael continued.
“You did that because you needed someone smaller than Dante to punish.”
The truth landed hard.
Javier did not attack.
Good.
He simply said:
“Yes.”
Michael’s smile faded slightly.
Shame admitted was harder to weaponize.
Dante asked:
“Why Mateo?”
Michael looked at the older man.
“Because he knows what Sebastian did to my father.”
Sebastian leaned on his cane.
“I spoke to Dominic.”
Michael’s voice hardened.
“You killed him.”
“No.”
“You entered his room.”
“Yes.”
“He died minutes later.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
Sebastian looked toward Mateo.
“Dominic was already dying.”
“Of what?”
“Fear.”
Michael laughed.
Sebastian continued.
“Your father thought Salvatore’s secrets would protect him.”
“From who?”
“Mateo.”
Michael looked toward the older Romano.
Mateo finally spoke.
“Dominic helped frame me.”
Javier stared at his father.
Mateo continued.
“He fed Salvatore false information.”
“He used Sebastian’s loyalty to me as proof we were building a faction.”
“He helped create the missing shipment.”
“Why?”
“Because if I left, Dominic moved closer to Salvatore.”
Michael looked unimpressed.
“I know.”
Dante frowned.
“You know?”
“Yes.”
“Then what is this about?”
Michael’s expression changed.
“My father regretted it.”
Silence.
Dominic eventually realized Salvatore’s paranoia was larger than any one scheme.
After Mateo vanished, Salvatore became increasingly dependent on Dominic.
At first, that was what Dominic wanted.
Then Salvatore began ordering tests against others.
Dante.
Captains.
Even Teresa.
Dominic saw the machine he helped build consuming the family.
“He wanted Mateo back,” Michael said.
Mateo stared.
“I never knew.”
“He tried to find you.”
“Why?”
“To undo it.”
Sebastian laughed quietly.
Michael’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“You still believe your father became good at the end.”
Michael’s face hardened.
Sebastian continued.
“Dominic wanted Mateo back because Dante was becoming too strong.”
Dante went still.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Dominic feared Salvatore would make you heir.”
Mateo looked toward Dante.
There it was again.
The succession thread.
Dominic wanted Mateo restored to balance Dante.
Not apology.
Strategy.
Michael looked shaken.
Not destroyed.
He had heard some version before.
“Why did my father die?” he asked.
Sebastian answered.
“Because he told me something Salvatore never knew.”
“What?”
“That you existed.”
Michael froze.
Dominic had hidden his son from everyone.
Including Salvatore.
But when death approached, he became afraid Michael would inherit his enemies without understanding them.
So he told Sebastian.
Asked him to find Michael.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Fifteen years ago.”
Michael laughed.
“I never saw you.”
“I saw you.”
“Where?”
“At your school.”
Michael’s face changed.
He would have been twenty-nine.
Sebastian continued.
“You were already working security jobs around the Romano businesses.”
“Why not approach?”
“Because you were speaking to Salvatore’s old men.”
“Which men?”
“Franklin Vale.”
Dante knew the name.
Dead eight years.
Old captain.
Hard.
Traditional.
Hated Mateo.
Michael looked away.
Sebastian understood.
“Franklin raised you into Dominic’s resentment.”
Michael’s voice became cold.
“He told me the truth.”
“No.”
Sebastian shook his head.
“He told you the useful half.”
Michael stared.
The same phrase.
Useful truth.
Everyone in the family had inherited one.
Dante stepped closer.
“What do you want?”
Michael looked at him.
“An end.”
“To what?”
“The Romano chair.”
Javier frowned.
“You want the family dissolved?”
“I want the bloodline removed from leadership.”
Mateo almost smiled.
“That sounds like Dominic.”
Michael ignored him.
Dante asked:
“And after?”
“A council.”
“Who chooses it?”
“People who earned power.”
“Like you.”
“Yes.”
There.
Not revolution.
Succession through another name.
Michael wanted merit.
As long as he defined merit.
Clara spoke from the rear.
“So you used a child to prove inherited leadership is immoral.”
Michael turned.
She continued.
“That’s almost impressive.”
His face cooled.
“You’re Javier’s wife.”
“Yes.”
“The man who attacked Leo.”
“Yes.”
“And you still stand beside him.”
“No.”
Javier turned.
Clara looked at him.
“I stand beside myself.”
Then Michael.
“I came because my husband’s choices affect my life.”
Silence.
Michael had no answer ready.
Dante almost smiled.
Michael looked back.
“The family needs to choose tomorrow.”
“Choose what?”
“Dante or no Dante.”
“Why tomorrow?”
“Because every captain is coming.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“You called a council.”
“Yes.”
“In my name?”
Michael smiled.
“I’ve been running your security for twelve years.”
Of course.
Access.
Authority.
Voice.
Men would come.
And if Dante refused, Michael would tell them he was afraid.
If Dante came, Michael would expose every hidden blood secret.
Dante’s supposed parentage.
Mateo’s exile.
Javier’s resentment.
All designed to make blood succession look rotten.
The problem?
Much of it was true.
Dante looked at Michael.
“I’ll come.”
Mateo turned.
“No.”
Dante looked at him.
Michael smiled.
“Good.”
Dante continued.
“But you’re not getting the fight you built.”
Michael’s smile faded.
“What does that mean?”
Dante looked at Javier.
Then Mateo.
May you like
Then Clara.
“You’ll see.”
