Lorenzo was still saying "a Falcone boy is forged hard, not coddled" as his hand reached up to brush gently along my face.
There had been a time when I loved him down to my bones.
All it took was for him to lean in a little closer, one look, one soft word, and my heart would race out of my control.
But now his touch stirred nothing in me at all.
I looked at him calmly, then spoke.
"Is that so?"
"Because I saw what Sofia posted today."
"Limited-edition tablet, a piano built to order. Whatever she wants, it appears."
"Seems some children in this house aren't forged hard at all."
The smile froze on Lorenzo's face.
The next second, he shot to his feet.
"Adriana, what's that supposed to mean?"
"Why are you always holding other children up against Matteo?"
"It's one gift."
"Do you really have to cut at me like this?"
"Or is it that Matteo never wanted a thing, and you're just the one who can't sit still about it?"
His voice kept climbing.
As if I'd stepped on something tender.
I didn't argue.
I just watched him quietly.
Those eyes I'd once longed for so badly were full of irritation now, and the guilt buried underneath it.
The air thickened, bit by bit, the way it does in a room before someone reaches for what's holstered.
Lorenzo finally registered that he'd overreacted.
He looked away, sank back onto the sofa, and his tone went soft.
"Cara."
"Don't take something this small to heart."
"Isn't Matteo's birthday the day after tomorrow?"
"I give you my word, I'll have a surprise ready for him. A big one."
At that, he reached over and took my hand.
"And you."
"Don't think about anything these next few days. Just get ready for the seven days in the old country. Scandinavia, the whole arrangement."
I nodded.
No argument, no further questions.
I just calmly slipped my hand free.
"I still have business to close. I'll be in the study."
Watching me walk away, Lorenzo visibly let out a breath.
As if he'd managed to smooth me over one more time.
The next morning.
The Falcone sit-down, the inner table where the Family's books were laid open.
It was only halfway through when Gianna spoke up.
"While Signora Marchetti is away, surely the Family can't run without a steady hand on things?"
She turned a pen in her fingers, a faint smile at the corner of her mouth. The pendant at her throat caught the light when she tilted her head.
"I'd be glad to carry some of her load for her."
The words landed.
The whole room went silent in an instant.
Every man at the table sat frozen.
Their eyes drifted, almost on reflex, to Lorenzo.
Everyone knew.
Adriana was taking seven days. That was all.
Seven days.
Whether the Don stepped in himself or a capo covered the territory in the meantime, either would be perfectly ordinary.
But Gianna, back among them only a short while, was openly asking for the authority.
This wasn't covering a gap.
This was reaching across the table, in plain sight, for power that wasn't hers.
The mood in the room turned delicate at once.
Gianna couldn't have cared less.
She lifted her head, her gaze landing squarely on me.
There was nothing hidden in it. Just a challenge.
"You wouldn't object, would you, Signora?"
"After all, the Family comes first."
Every man at the table held his breath.
Waiting for Lorenzo to take a side.
A moment later.
Lorenzo spoke, slow and even.
"We'll do as Gianna says."
One sentence.
It dropped the room into dead silence.
He turned to me.
His tone was gentle, as though he were doing it for my sake.
"Adriana."
"Take your rest."
"Let Gianna hold things for now."
"She's capable. I trust she can manage it."
The men exchanged glances.
No one had expected Lorenzo to agree.
Least of all to agree so readily.
A flash of triumph crossed Gianna's eyes.
She gave a falsely innocent little smile.
"Signora."
"You don't actually think I'm after your seat, do you?"
"I only want to ease the Don's burden."
No one in the room said a word.
But everyone could smell the gunpowder in the air.
There wasn't a made man under the Falcone name who didn't know.
For ten years, it was Adriana who had carried this Family, step by step, to the territory it held today.
She was decisive, swift, her word final.
Even allied Families and the men who paid tribute trod carefully at the mention of her name.
And now Gianna was challenging that authority in front of all of them.
By no measure did it look like easing a burden.
It looked far more like a declaration of war.
Lorenzo's body went tense without his meaning it to.
Clearly worried I was about to blow up.
But to everyone's surprise.
I smiled.
"Fine."
"I agree."
Two short words.
The whole table sat stunned.
Gianna was stunned.
The men were stunned.
Even Lorenzo was stunned.
He'd probably braced himself for me to turn on him right there, in front of the whole inner circle.
He never imagined I'd agree so readily.
Lorenzo was the first to recover.
A trace of relief even surfaced on his face.
He straightened his tie and laughed, a half-beat too late, the way a man laughs when he's solved a problem he thought had no answer.
I didn't look at anyone again.
I closed my file, stood, and left.
The moment I stepped out of the room.
Hurried footsteps came up behind me.
"Cara!"
Lorenzo had come after me.
He grabbed my wrist.
"Let me explain."
I stopped and turned to look at him.
"Explain what?"
"That this whole sit-down was always about clearing the way for Gianna?"
"Or that from the moment you arranged the seven days abroad, you'd already set all of this in motion?"
Lorenzo's expression shifted.
He clearly hadn't expected me to say it so plainly.
"It's not what you think."
"Cara, listen to me."
He reached out and pulled me against him.
His tone was so sincere it bordered on tender.
"Gianna really is capable."
"I won't see good talent wasted."
"Giving her the chance is for the Family's future too."
"I'm only doing this because I've no other choice."
At the end, he held my shoulders and made an earnest promise.
"When you're back."
"I'll create a seat. An underboss's place, beside mine."
"I'll name you underboss of the whole operation."
"Trust me, all right?"
I suddenly found it almost funny.
The Falcone Family had stood for ten years.
There had never once been such a seat at that table.
Just like the surprise he promised Matteo.
The seven days in the old country he promised me.
The countless futures he had promised.
They always sounded lovely.
And were never delivered.
I was quiet for a long while.
In the end I only let out a soft sigh.
"Lorenzo."
"For ten years, I've kept on understanding you."
"I've kept on making room for how hard things were for you."
Lorenzo's eyes lit up.
He had clearly misread me.
A smile broke out at once.
"I knew my wife was the best."
"In all the Family, no one understands me the way you do."
And with that, he even ruffled my hair, pleased with himself.
Then he turned and strode back toward the room.
As if everything were settled.
And I stood where I was, watching him go.
And found it almost unbearably funny.
He thought I would do what I'd always done. Forgive him, no conditions, no end.
He had no idea.
This time, I really was ready to walk away from the table.
