Chapter 3
Vivia stayed.
I allowed it only because Rafe stood beside her and because I refused to let Marcella turn the child’s presence into something shameful.
I opened the folder labeled MARCELLA.
The recording had no image.
Only voices.
Elena.
Marcella.
My wife spoke first.
“You’re using Nico’s name to promise people seats he abolished.”
Marcella answered calmly.
“I’m protecting this family from his moods.”
“My husband’s leadership is not a mood.”
“He changed after marrying you.”
There it was.
The accusation I had heard in softer forms for years.
Elena made me hesitate.
Elena made me question tradition.
Elena made me care too much about who got hurt when the family solved problems.
Marcella had smiled at dinner while saying those things like jokes.
On the recording, she stopped joking.
“You made him think kindness belongs in leadership.”
Elena laughed.
“You say that like I infected him.”
Marcella’s voice sharpened.
“You made him weak.”
My hand tightened around the table.
Vivia looked up at me.
I forced my fingers to relax.
Elena answered:
“No. I made him ask why cruelty was being called tradition.”
That sounded exactly like her.
Marcella looked away.
The recording continued.
Elena accused Marcella of promising Adrian Cross access to Bellandi harbor crews in exchange for a marriage alliance.
Two years before the wedding.
Adrian’s name moved through the ballroom like cold air.
He had not appeared in the prompt because he'd been elsewhere preparing? Fine story allows.
The groom had been upstairs preparing for the ceremony when all this began.
Rafe spoke quietly.
“He’s still in the west wing.”
“Keep him there.”
Marcella snapped, “Adrian has nothing to do with this.”
The recording answered for me.
Elena said:
“If Nico ever hears this, Marcella will tell him Adrian doesn’t know. She’s lying.”
Several guests shifted.
Marcella closed her eyes.
Then Elena’s voice became quieter.
“She promised him the east harbor. He promised her the old captains would recognize a permanent council after the marriage.”
I looked at my sister.
“You sold something that wasn’t yours.”
Marcella’s eyes flashed.
“I was saving something you were dismantling.”
“Whose family?”
“The Bellandis.”
I almost smiled.
“I am Bellandi.”
Her face twisted.
“That’s always been your problem.”
Silence.
Then she said what Elena must have known all along.
“You think being boss means the family belongs to you.”
I looked at Vivia.
“No.”
May you like
My voice stayed low.
“I think being family means people don’t belong to anyone.”
