Chapter 5
David asked to speak to Vincent alone.
That itself was unusual.
The next afternoon, he came into Vincent’s office carrying a small velvet box.
He placed it on the desk.
Inside was a Moretti signet ring.
Smaller than Vincent’s.
New.
Sized for a teenager.
Vincent stared at it.
“Where did this come from?”
“Aunt Margaret.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
Laura did not know.
Neither did Vincent.
“What did she tell you?”
“That it belonged to me eventually.”
“Eventually when?”
“When I was ready.”
Vincent picked up the ring.
It was not an heirloom.
The engraving was fresh.
Margaret had commissioned it.
“You wore it?”
“Once.”
“Where?”
“At her house.”
David looked ashamed.
“There were people there.”
“What people?”
“Uncle Raymond. Mr. Corsi. Two other guys.”
Senior Moretti associates.
All men who had known Vincent since David was a baby.
“What happened?”
“Nothing weird.”
Vincent waited.
David corrected himself.
“Okay. It was weird.”
They ate dinner.
Margaret toasted David.
She said the Moretti future needed someone who understood that family was inherited, not chosen.
David assumed she meant responsibility.
Then she told the men he was “Vincent’s continuation.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t know what I was supposed to say.”
That mattered.
Margaret was exposing David to adult family expectations without giving him enough information to meaningfully refuse them.
“Did she mention Emma?”
David nodded.
“She said Emma was lucky.”
Laura, listening later, asked, “Lucky how?”
“That she didn’t have to carry any of it.”
David looked at his mother.
“I thought she meant the business.”
“Maybe she did,” Laura said.
Vincent disagreed.
Margaret was creating two categories.
Emma was adopted, therefore free.
David was blood, therefore obligated.
The cruelty at the banquet suddenly carried a second meaning.
“Adopted children eat in the kitchen.”
May you like
Margaret was not only telling Emma where she believed the girl belonged.
She was showing David where Margaret believed he did not.
