Chapter 5
The two men didn't fight.
Smartest decision anyone made that night.
My guards took them downstairs.
Vanessa watched.
She didn't ask who they were.
That mattered.
I did.
“Names.”
The first man stayed silent.
The second looked at Vanessa.
She immediately said:
“Don't.”
I smiled.
“You know them.”
“No.”
The man laughed.
That surprised her.
“You don't?”
He looked at me.
“Ask your wife why she promised us the east rooms.”
Vanessa's face hardened.
I stepped closer.
“What are the east rooms?”
The man shrugged.
“Sleeping quarters.”
“For whom?”
“No idea.”
“Wrong.”
He looked at me.
I waited.
He cracked faster than Vanessa wanted.
“Men loyal to Santoro.”
My jaw tightened.
Rafael Santoro.
Senior capo.
Twenty years with my family.
Not blood.
Close enough to hurt.
Vanessa looked toward the floor.
I saw it.
“Rafael.”
She said nothing.
The man continued.
“He said Sunday was the move.”
“What move?”
“House first.”
“Then?”
“Council.”
I looked at Vanessa.
She smiled.
Not confidently.
Defiantly.
“You don't know what you're hearing.”
The man laughed again.
“She told us nobody would resist once Florence opened the lower route.”
My hands went cold.
“She refused.”
“Yes.”
“So Vanessa starved her.”
He looked at my wife.
Then away.
That answer was enough.
“What about my children?”
The man hesitated.
Vanessa finally shouted:
“Enough.”
I turned.
She stepped toward him.
“You were paid to keep your mouth shut.”
The room went silent.
I almost thanked her.
Instead, I looked at the man.
“What about Ivy and Owen?”
He swallowed.
“Leverage.”
Something inside me went still.
“Explain.”
“If Florence didn't talk…”
He looked at Vanessa.
“She said the children would.”
I stared at my wife.
She laughed weakly.
“Ridiculous.”
The man continued.
“Food first.”
My jaw tightened.
“Then what?”
“Dark room.”
I thought of the storage closet.
Owen's fever.
Ivy crying for me.
Vanessa had already been practicing.
“Then?”
He looked away.
“Separate them.”
My stomach turned.
Vanessa scoffed.
“Scare tactics.”
I looked at her.
“You planned them.”
“To make Florence cooperate.”
She realized too late.
The room froze.
I stepped closer.
“Thank you.”
Her face changed.
“No.”
“You just admitted it.”
“I admitted nothing.”
“You planned to frighten my children.”
“To get an old woman to stop being selfish.”
There it was again.
Florence's fault.
I stared.
Vanessa kept going.
“She was protecting a tunnel over her grandchildren.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“She was protecting them from you.”
That landed.
She hated it.
“You have no idea how difficult this house became after your father died.”
“What does my father have to do with this?”
Vanessa smiled.
“Everything.”
I frowned.
She saw it.
And for the first time that night, Vanessa looked pleased to know something I didn't.
“Your mother never told you?”
“Told me what?”
She laughed.
“Of course she didn't.”
“What?”
“She thinks silence makes her noble.”
I almost grabbed her.
Didn't.
Vanessa leaned closer.
“Your father didn't build that tunnel to escape enemies.”
I stared.
“He built it to move them.”
“What does that mean?”
She smiled.
“Ask Florence what happened the winter your uncle disappeared.”
My throat tightened.
Uncle Pietro.
My father's younger brother.
Gone eighteen years.
Family story said he fled after betraying us.
Vanessa's smile widened.
“Same tunnel.”
I looked toward the stairs.
“Florence knows?”
“Every step.”
“Why didn't she tell me?”
“Because your mother has always preferred secrets to sons.”
I almost believed that for half a second.
Then I remembered four days without food.
My children's red hands.
Vanessa's notebook.
No.
She wanted me angry at Florence.
She wanted division.
That was what she did.
She saw it fail.
Her face hardened.
“Go ask her.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
She smiled.
“And when you realize your precious mother lied to you for eighteen years…”
May you like
Her eyes sharpened.
“…maybe you'll finally understand why I stopped letting her eat.”
