For the next three days, I stayed at a hotel. I turned off my phone and cut off all contact.
On the fourth morning, I pushed open the door to a private café. My personal lawyer, Dario Ricci, was waiting for me. I had once protected him from a lethal threat. He owed me his life. Even if every member of the Ferrante family turned their backs on me, his loyalty would never waver.
Dario finished reading the materials I handed him, then looked up. Behind his glasses, his expression was complicated. "Madre, do you know what you're doing?"
"I do," I said.
"A family tribunal," he repeated the words slowly.
"The last time someone requested this was 15 years ago. After that trial, the petitioner's mother was exiled from the family. The petitioner herself jumped into the river three months later.
"Madre, you don't have to go down this road. Once you initiate a tribunal, everything about you will be laid bare in front of everyone. The heir in your belly, your social media chat logs, even your report cards from school. All of it becomes evidence.
"Every pair of eyes will scrutinize you. Are you sure you can handle that?"
I stirred my coffee. The sweet heart in the foam gradually dissolved, transforming into an 'X' shape that screamed vengeance.
"Can the tribunal ruling apply to the Don?"
He nodded.
I smiled. "Then there's nothing I can't handle. Also, stop addressing me as 'Madre.'"
...
The afternoon the family tribunal notice went out, my phone exploded. The first message came from Mamma: [Are you trying to humiliate me in front of everyone?]
The second came from Papa: [I wish I'd never had you.]
The third came from an unknown number with only one sentence: [You'll regret this.]
Family members sent countless hateful messages. Looking at the words on the screen, a wave of bitterness washed over me. I closed my eyes and forced down every emotion. Then, I opened an encrypted folder.
Inside were hundreds of intimate videos of Cesare and Bianca. When I first installed the security system at home, Bianca took advantage of the situation and asked me to install one at her place for free. I kept the highest administrative access to that system.
Every night after Cesare put Bianca's baby to sleep, he would slip into her bedroom. All those vows he had made to me became a joke. He was not only caring for that child in front of me every day, but he was also caring for the child's mother in her bed.
A notification interrupted my thoughts. It was from Dario.
[Ms. Rossi, the tribunal is set for two days from now. I have all the materials you requested.]
…
Early the next morning, I received a text from the Underboss.
[Madre, there's a problem with the family business. That cross-border acquisition you were handling… They screwed it up. The other party is leaving tomorrow. Can you come in? Just for a bit.]
A string of crying emojis followed.
I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the screen. I should not go. The tribunal was imminent. Any complications would be asking for trouble.
Still, that acquisition was something I had worked on while pregnant with my first child.
Back then, my morning sickness was brutal. I would run to the bathroom in the middle of meetings, vomit, wipe my mouth, and return to negotiations. I pushed through four months. I pushed until the other party agreed. I pushed until the contract was finalized. I pushed until the baby was gone.
I had poured everything into that deal.
I sighed and got up to change my clothes.
