Chapter 11
The four capos entered the underground council room expecting Helena.
They found Victoria at Daniel’s chair.
That mattered.
Helena immediately lifted her chin.
“Gentlemen.”
Nobody answered.
Marcus noticed.
So did she.
Victoria placed the black ledger on the table.
“Your names are marked red.”
One capo stared at Helena.
Another looked toward Marcus.
Victoria continued.
“Were you told I was stepping down tonight?”
Silence.
Helena snapped:
“Answer me.”
The oldest capo looked at her.
“No.”
Her face changed.
He turned to Victoria.
“We were told you had already abandoned Daniel’s structure.”
Victoria almost smiled.
“By whom?”
Marcus closed his eyes.
The capo answered.
“Marcus.”
Helena turned on her son.
“You told them tonight?”
Marcus stared.
“You said they were ready.”
“They were supposed to be approached after Victoria was isolated.”
Another difference.
Another compartment.
Helena had never trusted Marcus with full timing.
Marcus laughed bitterly.
“You were going to blame me if it failed.”
Helena smiled.
“You made it fail.”
There.
Still control.
Still humiliation.
One capo looked at the list of children.
His granddaughter’s name appeared there.
His face changed.
“What is that?”
Victoria handed him the page.
He read.
Then looked at Helena.
“My granddaughter?”
Helena said calmly:
“Insurance.”
The man’s hands tightened.
“She’s four.”
“And?”
The word echoed.
Wrong room.
Wrong audience.
Every red-slash capo heard it.
Helena continued:
“You all have things you care about. Mature men acknowledge that.”
The oldest capo stared at her.
“You were going to threaten our children.”
“No.”
“Then why list them?”
“Protection.”
He laughed once.
No humor.
Victoria said nothing.
She did not need to persuade them.
Helena was doing it herself.
Marcus suddenly pointed at Victoria.
“She’s using you.”
Victoria looked at him.
He continued.
“She’ll make you think she’s better.”
One capo replied:
“She didn’t list my granddaughter.”
Silence.
Marcus opened his mouth.
Nothing came.
Victoria finally spoke.
“Daniel did.”
The men looked at her.
“He listed who Helena was studying.”
The oldest capo closed his eyes.
Understood.
Then Victoria played Daniel’s recording.
Not all of it.
Enough.
Helena’s face hardened as her dead brother exposed exactly how she operated.
When the tape ended, nobody moved toward her.
She stared.
“I called you here.”
The oldest capo answered:
“No.”
Pause.
“You summoned us.”
May you like
That distinction ended something inside Helena.
Because summons only work when people still believe disobedience is dangerous.
