Chapter 6
Carlo Vane was found in the service corridor.
Not hiding.
Waiting.
That arrogance came from Thomas.
My guards brought him onto the terrace.
Seventy years old.
Gray hair.
Dark suit.
Same cold eyes I remembered from childhood.
He looked at me.
“Valentina.”
“Carlo.”
Thomas stood.
“You don’t have to answer her.”
Carlo smiled.
“She is still the boss.”
Still.
That word hurt Thomas.
Good.
I looked at Carlo.
“What was tonight?”
He sighed.
“A correction.”
Everyone who betrayed me had a prettier word.
Accident.
Discipline.
Correction.
Never what it actually was.
“Correction of what?”
“Your leadership.”
“Meaning?”
“You became sentimental.”
Thomas laughed.
“Finally someone says it.”
Carlo continued.
“You cancel meetings for Ethan.”
“He’s my son.”
“You moved armed men away from docks to protect schools he attends.”
“He’s three.”
Carlo shrugged.
“And?”
The same word.
Different mouth.
Same poison.
I understood where Thomas’s thinking lived.
It had never disappeared.
It had simply gone quiet when I took power.
“What did you intend to do?”
Carlo looked at Thomas.
My father answered.
“You disappear for seventy-two hours.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“Against my will.”
“You needed distance.”
“From?”
“Ethan.”
My son flinched.
Thomas looked at him.
“He makes you predictable.”
I stared.
“No.”
“He cries. You run.”
“Yes.”
“He gets sick. You stop business.”
“Yes.”
“He gets frightened. You change plans.”
“Yes.”
My father smiled cruelly.
“And you call yourself a boss.”
I stepped closer.
“Yes.”
His smile faltered.
“That’s the difference between us.”
“What?”
“I don’t need my son to suffer so men think I’m strong.”
The capos heard it.
Thomas knew.
He changed tactics.
“Bianca said things like that too.”
I froze.
He smiled.
“There. Always your mother.”
I looked at Carlo.
“Were you on Bianca’s boat?”
His face changed.
Barely.
Enough.
Thomas snapped:
“Don’t.”
Carlo looked at him.
Then me.
May you like
And I knew.
My father had not staged my mother’s death alone.
