We settle into business, discussing percentages and provisions, territory boundaries and import regulations.
Sabina is probably bored by it as she falls back asleep in my arms.
I use my other hand to review documents until their nanny arrives and takes the baby upstairs.
"There's another matter we need to address,” Gabriella says in a tone that suggests I’m not going to like what she has to say.
“Okay.”
“Luca, it's time. You need to take control, officially.”
I’m shaking my head before she can finish. “He still has good days.”
“But more and more bad ones. You know that, Luca. God, if you hadn’t been on top of the Montenegro shipment, he’d have caused us serious problems, not just with the other families but potentially exposing us legally.”
"You think I don't know that?" The words come out defensive. “But he's still our father."
Her smile is soft, sympathetic. “He’ll always be our father, but he can’t be Don anymore. Not if this family is to survive.”
Marco nods. "He knows it too, Luca. He's just too proud to admit it. But that’s why you came home."
“I came home to help run things, not take over.” I can’t bear to think of my father as too addled and weak to be Don Monti. He’s always been like a superhero to me. How can I usurp the man who taught me everything about strength and honor?
“You’ve been raised to take over one day,” Gabriella says. “That day has come.”
"Family above all," Marco says quietly. "Antonio taught us that."
"Have you talked to him about this?" I ask, searching their faces. "Actually sat down and had this conversation?"
Marco shifts, uncomfortable in a way I rarely see him. "I’ve broached the subject."
I snort. “If the great Don Calabresi can’t be frank with my father, how do you think I can?”
“Because you’re his son. Because he sees the man you’ve become. You need to give the final proof by stepping up, being the leader he’s raised you to be.” Marco is right, but that doesn’t make what they’re asking me to do any easier. It will devastate my father to tell him he’s not fit to be Don anymore.
I think about my father this morning, clear-eyed and sharp as he discussed Umberto's case.
How he remembered details from seven years ago with perfect clarity.
“We’ll support you,” Gabriella says. "All of us together, with respect and love. But firm."
I run a hand through my hair, frustration building. "You're talking about stripping away the last of his dignity. Being Don isn't just what he does. It's who he is."
Gabriella rises, coming to sit beside me. "The longer he’s Don, the greater the risk it is to the family."
"He was lucid today when I saw him.” I’m desperate to put this off. It’s not that I’m not ready to lead. I’m not able to put my father out to pasture. “He was completely present. We discussed Umberto Vitale and the whole situation from years back."
Marco’s eyes sharpen with interest. "Umberto? Why would you be asking about him?"
"Because I need to know who destroyed my life." I don’t hide my bitterness that I’ve been living under a cloud of suspicion. "Father believes Aldo Vitale orchestrated everything, the tip that got Umberto arrested and his murder in prison.”
Gabriella shoots a glance at Marco as if she’s looking to him for confirmation. “Is that true?”
Marco's expression darkens, his jaw tightening. "Antonio told you this directly?"
"Clear as day. Said he always suspected but never had proof. But I’m finding that truth. I’m going to prove to La Corona that I’m not a snitch or a traitor.”
“No one in La Corona believes that,” Marco says. “Least of all, Dom.”
