The first time she ever sat at a proper table with linen and silver, I was the one who took her there.
She told me once that when she made something of herself in the Family, she'd repay me.
And now here she was, draped over the arm of the man I'd sworn my life beside,
dressed head to toe in things he'd bought her, telling me she felt sorry for him because I'd been bleeding him dry.
Even if it meant burning my own dignity to ash, I was done shielding theirs.
I drew a folder of printed pages from my bag.
And I read them out, slow and clear, in front of every soldier and associate in that room:
"Three months ago, my partner-in-blood took a hotel suite with you. The room and what you needed for the night came to five hundred and eighty dollars."
"Two months ago, he bought you a limited-edition bag. One thousand and twenty."
"One week ago, he bought you a ring. Twelve thousand six hundred."
……
"Every figure has a receipt. Every receipt has a photograph. So go on. Tell the room. Who exactly is being played here?"
A murmur moved through the crew like a draft under a door,
and more than a few of them didn't trouble to hide the disgust on their faces.
Lorenzo's face cycled between white and red.
I gave the word, and the men carried my things back to where they belonged,
and when Lorenzo tried to stop them, not one hand paused. The hierarchy in that room had already shifted, and they all felt it before anyone said a thing.
Renata took it a step further, her voice dripping sweet poison: "Ms. Bellini, let me run some alcohol around the office. Reeks of a homewrecker in here. A person can't even breathe."
She sprayed it across the both of them like she was salting earth.
In the end, all Lorenzo could manage was a half-beat laugh and a sputter of "Fine. Fine. You all just wait."
The laugh came too early, the way it always did when he had nothing behind it. Then he grabbed Gemma and left.
I'd barely settled back into my chair, everything restored to its place, when my phone rang. Don Greco.
"Adriana. You're certain you're coming home to the old quarter?"
"If you're certain, I'll have the Romano boy meet you at the station."
A smile spread across my face for the first time in a long while.
"Ticket's already bought. But don't tell Nonna Carmela yet. I want to surprise her."
The old man's voice warmed in an instant.
He said "wonderful" three times before he hung up.
The old neighborhood never had any custom about marrying by thirty. But my Nonna was eighty.
She couldn't afford to wait.
Ever since the rupture between Lorenzo and me,
the two of them had grown bolder by the day.
As though they were finally free to stop hiding.
Or as though they wanted to grind it into my face.
Inseparable through every corridor of the operation.
Whenever Lorenzo showed at a sit-down or a function, the woman on his arm was Gemma now.
She'd started playing the Boss's wife around the place, barking orders at made men like they answered to her.
Just waiting for me to clear out so she could slide into my seat.
Renata couldn't stomach it and brought it to me more than once.
I laid a hand on her shoulder.
"Hold steady. Let her enjoy herself."
By the fifth time Gemma threw bait and I refused to bite,
she couldn't hold the performance together any longer.
She came into my office without knocking.
"Lorenzo doesn't want you anymore. Why are you still clinging to this place?"
I reached over, unhurried, and straightened the lapel of her brand-new designer blazer.
My voice couldn't have been flatter:
"Men. Their loyalty follows their money."
"You do know I hold forty-nine points in this operation? How much do you hold?"
"Here's a thought. Let's make a wager. If he's willing to sign over ten points of his own to you, I forfeit mine and walk out the door."
"If he won't, you're the one walking. Deal?"
The color drained from her face.
But she touched her lower lip, let her eyes glisten, and nodded all the same: "Deal. Don't come crying when you lose."
A few days later, Gemma walked into my office with Lorenzo trailing behind her.
She slapped a transfer of stakes down on my desk.
I read the second clause. Fifteen points, signed over to her name. I laughed out loud.
"Adriana, drop the act. Pack your things and get out."
Lorenzo glanced at me, just a flicker of something uneasy crossing his face.
"Adriana, don't hold it against me for standing with her. It was only a wager. Think of it as a parting gift for the girl."
Then he shifted into another register.
"But we're earners, you and I. A man's word is the only thing that holds. Even a private bet deserves an honest payoff."
