We watch Edoardo open the envelope with slow, jerky fingers, like it might explode. He pulls out the papers, scans the first page, and then the second; his eyes narrow even more as he pretends to understand the science behind it. We know he doesn't. But it doesn’t matter. The seal, the signatures, the stamp of Doc Brown’s lab, it’s all there.
The truth is printed in black and white.
Doc, completely unbothered, strolls across the room and makes himself at home at the liquor cart. He sniffs at a few crystal decanters before settling on one, pouring himself two fingers’ worth of what looks like very old, very expensive whiskey.
"You’re welcome for the validation, by the way," he mutters, tossing it back like well water. "And for the fact I didn’t charge you extra for expedited results, though I should’ve, considering I had to bribe two techs and steal electricity from a dentist’s office."
Edoardo’s face is stone when he finally looks up from the papers. His eyes land on me and harden. "So what?" he says, quiet and sharp. "Brother?You think that entitles you to something? You expect me to hand over half my kingdom because of this?"
I tilt my head, calm as hell. "Technically," I say, clearing my throat, "since I’m older… it would bemykingdom."
The silence in the room snaps like a wire pulled too tight. Edoardo’s hand moves fast, faster than I give him credit for. He yanks open the drawer of his desk and pulls out a sleek black handgun, pointing it at me, then at Sophia, then at Doc Brown, his aim bouncing between all of us like a fuse waiting for fire.
Before the barrel can settle on her, I step in front of Sophia, placing myself squarely between her and the weapon. She doesn’t scream. Doesn’t gasp. She just exhales. Soft. Controlled. Like she expected this all along.
Doc Brown doesn’t even stop pouring his second drink.
"I’d think real hard before you pull that trigger,Don," he says mildly. "You might hit a nerve. Or worse, me. And I don’t die easily. Ask your cousin. Oh, wait, you can’t. He's dead." He swallows the liquor down. "Half my staff knows about this, and before you go hunt themdown, let me tell you that I have a few other bits of insurance in place." He cracks his neck. "In the event of my untimely death. And I'm sure these two," he nods at Sophia and me, "have some fail-safes in place as well."
While I watch Doc Brown toss back Edoardo’s liquor like water and deliver death threats with a shrug, I realize something else. He’s enjoying this. Not just the chaos, he's enjoying watching Edoardo squirm. He would like nothing more than to be the one pressing the pressure point. He doesn’t like our Don. Not even a little.
And yet, he's putting himself in the crosshairs. Not recklessly. Doc Brown never moves without contingency plans. But still, this isn’t a man afraid to die. He says he has fail-safes in place, and so do I, but Edoardo is unpredictable, and I'd rather not need them. Because even with every angle covered, every threat anticipated, I can’t stomach the idea of something happening to Sophia.
I should’ve told her to stay home.
I hadn't exactly expected a loving family reunion, but looking at the rage bleeding into Edoardo’s face, I suppose I should have expected the gun. He’s unstable at his best and unpredictable when cornered.
And now he’s dangerous.
My eyes track his every movement, trying to calculate how fast I could draw mine if he even thinks about aiming at her again. Maybe I’d get there in time. Maybe not.
Edoardo paces behind his desk, the gun still in his hand, and all the while, his mind is visibly churning. He’s not bluffing anymore. He’s thinking. And he’s not happy.
"Goddamn it," he mutters. "Who’s the whoring mother?"
Doc takes another sip, then shrugs. "That wasn't exactly in my contract, but I can check."
Edoardo lowers himself into his seat and sets the gun in front of him, one hand resting lightly beside it. "See that you do."
Doc smirks, tips an invisible hat toward Sophia, and gives me a nod before turning on his heel and strolling out, closing the door behind him.
"I suppose I could have the tests rerun," Edoardo says, buying time.
"You could," I agree, still watching the gun on the desk like it’s breathing. "But the result won’t change."
"If you think I’ll give up my seat easily, I’ll?—"
I hold up a hand. "That’s not what I’m here for." My voice stays even and controlled. "I’m not here to stir unrest. I just want to marry Sophia… and keep her safe."
Edoardo scoffs and rolls his eyes like this is beneath him, like he’s losing a game he didn’t realize he was playing until it’s too late. "What else do you want?"
The gun is still within reach, but I take a step forward anyway, placing myself between it and Sophia. I stop at the edge of his desk and plant both hands on the surface,leaning in just enough to be threatening without saying a word.
"Make no mistake," I tell him. "I have the means to press my claim. Some of your capos would jump at the chance to back me."
I let that sit. Let it sink in. His jaw works side to side as he grinds his teeth, no doubt thinking of a few names. So am I.
"Let’s make a deal," I say, locking eyes with him. And in that moment, I see it, the cowardice. The empty bravado. The brittle edges of a man who’s already lost and knows it. Fortunately for him, I'm not ready to wear the crown. Not yet. "I meant what I said. I don’t want your throne. Not now. What I want is for Sophia to be safe. And to make that official."
