"You couldn’t challenge him before," I add, "because there was no alternative. No heir. No leverage. But now..."
I spread my hands.
"Now, there is."
Marcello leans back with a derisive chuckle, arms crossed, and he keeps his voice low but sharp. "There it is. You want our help to become Don."
I meet his eyes, calm. Unbothered. "I’m not going to pretend the thought hasn’t crossed my mind."
Toni snorts into his glass.
"But," I continue, "speaking inprofitableterms—profitable toallof us—La Famiglia needs to be stable. That won’t happen if I bully my way onto the throne and force every capo in the city to kiss the ring."
Toni scoffs again, but this time there’s no humor. Just cold cynicism. "And we’re supposed to believe that Leonardo Zanello’s son is suddenly ready to give up his birthright for the—" he lifts both hands, making exaggerated air quotes, "greater good?"
His voice drips with sarcasm, but I don’t flinch. Instead, I nod. "I imagine you’ve heard ofUmbra Arcana."
That name stills the room. Three sharp glances flick toward me. No one says anything. They know the name. Maybe not what it means—but enough to recognize theweight. I exhale slowly. "It used to be calledOmertà Infernale."
Now I have their full attention.
Marcello straightens in his seat. Enrico lowers his glass, still as stone. Toni’s fingers pause on the rim.
"Nothing happens in this city—or the next five over—without my systems blinking a light. Most of you think I'm just some off-grid soldier with a chip on his shoulder. And I was, until I turned that chip into leverage. Into surveillance. Into a network that’s been watchingeveryone—including Edoardo."
Chairs don’t scrape. No one moves. But every man in this room is now laser-focused on me. Then, from the edge of the couch, Toni murmurs something between narrowed eyes. Then he says, "Wait… are you telling us—you’re the boss ofOmertà Infernale?"
The weight of the name drops like a grenade. A beat passes, followed by a low whistle from Marcello. Enrico glances at Toni. Toni glances at Marcello. Nobody looks at me. Not directly. They're recalibrating, measuring me all over again.
And I’m not entirely sure if this revelation just made me ten times more valuable or ten times more dangerous.
Then Enrico stands, and I brace, because there is murder in his eyes. "Ledyanoy Prizrakworked for Omertà Infernale. The same ghost who tried to kill me. Who set a bomb atmywedding and tried to kill mywife."
My spine straightens.
I raise both hands, slow and steady, a gesture of peace, but make no mistake—I'm still ready to defend myself if I have to.
"Ledyanoy Prizrak never workedforme.Hecame tome, uninvited, claiming to be my uncle."
The words hang there, absurd and true. "I didn’t recruit him. I didn’t hire him. I didn’t eventrusthim.Hewanted something fromme. But I hadnothingto do with the bombing, Enrico. I swear. Had I known, I would have stopped it."
I let that settle, then drive the point home. "Which, by the way, all of that and the attempts on Marcello's life were orchestrated byDonna Margarita. Not me. Your beef was withher—andhim—not me."
They study me in silence.
I hold their eyes, one by one.
"I don’t deal in shadows anymore. You’re looking at the man who turned Omertà Infernale intoUmbra Arcana—not to build a criminal empire in the dark, but to shine a light on the rot that’s been eating away at La Famiglia."
Enrico sits back down, empties his glass, and sets it down hard on the table. Nobody moves.
"This isn’t about power. Not just. It’s about control. About keeping our enemies from getting their hands on our throats while we’re busy stabbing eachother in the back," I say. "This is why I'm laying all my cards on the table. Letting you know thatbeforeI became capo, I was already a king in my own right.
"And if I have to give up mybirthrightto make sure La Famiglia survives the next five years? I’ll do it. But I’m not going to stand by while a man like Edoardo sells us to the highest bidder in Caracas."
I cross my arms and lean into the silence.
Your move, boys.
