The idea was so laughable that I couldn’t contain my loud snort.
Rory’s head whipped around, the expression on her face daring me to voice my thoughts as to why that was so funny.
Electing to avoid a fight with my wife in front of an audience, I tapped the side of my champagne flute with the knife Enzo had provided me for that express purpose, drawing the attention of the room.
The din of chatter died down immediately, all eyes turning in our direction.
Clearing my throat, I began, “Good evening. I’d like to start by thanking every single man in this room for their service to the Bellinis, whether you’ve been with us for one week or fifty years. Without your continued loyalty, our organization would cease to exist.”
While it remained silent, there were several nods from those seated at the tables.
“Next, I’d like to take a moment to acknowledge my brother, Matteo, for stepping in as Don during my absence these past four years, guiding our interests and vanquishing the Russians.” I tipped my glass in his direction. “Job well done.”
There was a round of applause for their stand-in Don.
I looped my free arm around Rory’s waist. “This holiday season, I am most grateful to have my wife returned to me, and as you can see, we are expecting. Our son, the heir to the Belliniempire, will be joining us in only a few months’ time, securing our family’s future for the next generation.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” my uncle’s familiar voice boomed from the far end of the room.
There were several gasps at his blatant show of disrespect.
As we’d hoped, Dario hadn’t been able to resist the trap we’d carefully laid, and he stepped further into the ballroom, a grin of triumph curved on his lips, relishing that all eyes were on him.
While those gathered were sufficiently stunned by his challenging statement, what surprised me was his appearance. The man I knew had been unkempt at best, sporting greasy hair, leaving the buttons of his shirt undone to expose his beer gut and the stained wife-beater tucked into his pants. But now, he wore a perfectly tailored suit, giving off an air of authority he’d never possessed before.
Plastering a charming smile on my face, I crooned, “Uncle, I’m so glad you could join us this evening.”
Derisive laughter burst from his lips. “I highly doubt that.”
I clicked my tongue. “Of course I am. It provides me with the perfect opportunity to share with those gathered how far you were willing to go in your quest to unseat me and take my position for yourself.” Pausing for dramatic effect, I asked, “Where should we start? With the botched attempt on my life that resulted in Allegra Bellini’s death.”
In the crowd, shocked faces swiveled in his direction.
“Or how about the fire you had set at Matteo’s house, where his two little girls were asleep inside?”
There were angry cries of outrage in response to that revelation, and my highest-ranking men stood to aim guns in Dario’s direction.
That’s when his backup entered through the ballroom’s exterior doors, brandishing firearms to create a silent standoff. But what I never expected was for my former capos—the onesMatteo and Enzo had forced to “retire”—to rise from their seats, joining my uncle in a show of support.
“Son of a bitch,” Matteo hissed under his breath.
Despite the insult to our nonna, whom we’d never had the pleasure of meeting, I had to agree. Dario was inciting a civil war, pitting fathers against sons. The number of potential casualties in our fight to maintain control had just risen significantly with this new development.
I wanted nothing more than to rush across the room and choke the life from my uncle, but I maintained my calm façade, picking at a piece of invisible lint on my tuxedo jacket. “The rules of succession have been written in stone for centuries. What makes you think you can bypass them?”
In a sharp contrast to my composure, Dario’s face turned red as he roared, “Why should I have to suffer when I was muscled out of the way so my brother could cash in on a first-class ticket out of the birth canal!”
Shaking my head, I muttered, “And people wonder why royalty used to kill the second twin.”
Unable to remain silent, Enzo spoke up. “For argument’s sake, let’s pretend you have a legitimate claim to take over as the head of the Bellini Family. What’s the point? I am your sole heir and am childless. The family legacy would die with me.”
A sinister grin curved on Dario’s face. “That’s where you’d be wrong.”
My eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”
Curling his fingers, my uncle beckoned. “Son, why don’t you come up here and join me?”
The air was sucked from my lungs when none other than Nico, our resident tech genius, rose from his seat to stand by Dario’s side.
