Chapter 7
I moved Clara upstairs.
Personally.
She didn't understand why Christmas had stopped.
Children don't recognize conspiracies.
They recognize broken routines.
“Are you coming back?”
“Yes.”
“Promise?”
I kissed her forehead.
“Yes.”
That promise mattered more than anything downstairs.
When I returned, Katherine and Marcus had been separated.
Salvatore remained in the gallery.
I wanted him where I could see him.
“Who is outside?”
He stared toward the windows.
“Men from the Vescari crew.”
I knew the name.
Everyone did.
Old money.
Old grudges.
Patient men.
“What did you promise them?”
“Nothing.”
I laughed.
“You brought them to my gate for nothing?”
“I told them there might be an opening.”
Katherine shouted from across the room.
“You said they were leverage.”
Salvatore turned.
“They were.”
“Against whom?”
“You.”
That shut her up.
Finally.
I looked at him.
“What was the real plan?”
He exhaled.
“Weaken you.”
“Then?”
“Let Katherine push Marcus forward.”
“Then?”
“Let the family split.”
“Then?”
“The Vescari men offer support.”
I nodded.
“And once everyone is divided, they decide who survives.”
Salvatore said nothing.
Correct.
Marcus stared at him.
“You were going to kill me too.”
Salvatore looked almost bored.
“You were never built for the chair.”
Marcus lunged again.
This time not at me.
At Salvatore.
The guards stopped him.
Katherine screamed his name.
I stayed still.
Amazing.
For months these people had been moving pieces around me.
Now they couldn't survive ten minutes in the same room without turning on each other.
One of my capos entered.
“Boss.”
“Outside?”
“Still waiting.”
“Why?”
“They expect a signal.”
I looked at Salvatore.
“What signal?”
He didn't answer.
Katherine did.
“The chandelier.”
We all turned.
The dining gallery chandelier had twelve candle-shaped bulbs.
One section could be dimmed separately during dinners.
Katherine continued.
“Three flashes.”
Marcus stared at her.
“How do you know?”
She looked away.
Of course she knew.
She hadn't been an innocent partner.
Only a betrayed one.
I turned toward my capo.
“Give them the signal.”
Salvatore looked at me.
“No.”
First honest fear all night.
I smiled slightly.
“You invited guests.”
I adjusted my cuff.
“It would be rude not to receive them.”
We flashed the chandelier.
Three times.
Then waited.
The west doors opened six minutes later.
Not the gallery doors.
The lower service entrance beneath it.
Four men entered.
They expected confused guards.
A divided family.
A dying boss.
Instead, twelve of my men were waiting.
The confrontation lasted less than a minute.
No gunfire.
No screaming.
Just the sound of men discovering their information was outdated.
One of them was brought upstairs.
He looked at Salvatore.
Then at me.
“You don't look sick.”
I almost smiled.
“Disappointed?”
He said nothing.
I leaned closer.
“Who were you supposed to put in my chair?”
His eyes moved toward Salvatore.
Then away.
I waited.
Finally he answered.
“Not him.”
Salvatore's face changed.
May you like
The Vescari man smiled.
“They were using him too.”
