Chapter 7
Victor Vitale had not left the country.
That much became clear within an hour.
I sent men to the old east lodge where Maura claimed he'd last been seen.
Nothing.
Then to three family properties.
Nothing.
Maura watched every search with amusement.
“You're wasting Christmas.”
I looked at her.
“So did you.”
She smiled.
“At least mine was entertaining.”
Mia was upstairs with Marco now.
I wanted her nowhere near Maura.
My aunt hated that.
“You're hiding her?”
“Protecting her.”
“From words?”
“From you.”
Maura laughed.
“She'll grow up weak.”
“Maybe.”
I stepped closer.
“But she'll grow up.”
That stopped her.
Grant sat across the room.
Quiet.
For the first time in his life, he seemed unsure whether staying near his mother made him safer.
I understood.
Maura looked at him.
“Sit straight.”
He stared.
“What?”
“You look pathetic.”
He almost laughed.
“You lied to me.”
“I managed you.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
She smiled.
“Lying is what equals do.”
Grant went still.
I almost admired the cruelty.
Almost.
“You never thought he was equal,” I said.
Maura looked at me.
“Of course not.”
Grant's face changed.
She didn't care.
“He's my son.”
“As opposed to?”
“A leader.”
Grant stood.
“Mother.”
She turned.
“What?”
“You told me I was taking Lorenzo's place.”
“Yes.”
“You said the capos would follow me.”
“Some would.”
“You said—”
“I told you what kept you obedient.”
Silence.
Maura smiled.
“See how useful encouragement can be?”
Grant stared at her.
His whole life had probably been that sentence.
Do this.
Earn that.
Behave.
Receive love.
Control disguised as approval.
Maura looked at me.
“You think I'm cruel.”
“Yes.”
“I think I'm practical.”
“Of course you do.”
“Your father did too.”
“My father loved you.”
“And it made him careless.”
My chest tightened.
“What did you do?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Again with drama.”
Grant whispered:
“Mother.”
Maura snapped:
“Stop whining.”
He stepped closer.
“Did you do something to Uncle Antonio?”
She smiled.
“He did things to himself.”
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
“He refused to retire.”
My hands curled.
Maura continued.
“He was tired. Sick. Slower every year.”
“You told everyone he was healthy.”
“Publicly.”
“Why?”
“Because enemies smell weakness.”
“So you lied.”
“To protect the family.”
Every answer.
Always for the family.
I understood Maura now.
Not because she was complicated.
Because she was terrifyingly simple.
Whatever protected her version of the family was moral.
Whatever challenged it deserved removal.
Even blood.
I looked at Grant.
“When did she start telling you I'd become weak?”
He hesitated.
“After Mia was born.”
There it was again.
Maura smiled.
“You did.”
I turned.
“How?”
“You stopped finishing council.”
“For my daughter.”
“You canceled punishments.”
“For men who hadn't earned them.”
“You negotiated.”
“When blood wasn't necessary.”
“You let capos question you.”
“Good leaders should survive questions.”
Maura laughed.
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Strong leaders teach people to fear asking.”
I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
Then the study doors opened.
My security chief entered.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We found Victor.”
Maura's face changed.
Not fear.
Shock.
Real shock.
I stood.
“Alive?”
The chief nodded.
Grant sat down hard.
Maura whispered:
“No.”
There it was.
One word.
More honest than everything she'd said all night.
I looked at her.
“You said he left the country.”
She stared.
My chief continued.
“He never left the state.”
“Where?”
“Saint Gabriel's monastery.”
I frowned.
An old monastery north of the city.
Not ours.
Not Mafia.
Quiet.
Protected by men who believed confession belonged to God before family.
“How long?”
“Six years.”
Maura laughed suddenly.
Too loudly.
“He's lying.”
My chief looked at her.
“We spoke to him.”
“He's insane.”
“He asked for Lorenzo.”
Maura's face tightened.
“He always wanted attention.”
Then my chief added:
“He said to tell you one thing.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“He remembers Christmas.”
Maura went completely still.
“What Christmas?” Grant asked.
May you like
The chief looked at her.
“The one Antonio didn't wake up from.”
