The guards snapped to attention, their guns trained on her as she froze in place.
“It’s paper. Chill twelve-step and lunchbox.”
As those who could speak English puzzled through the insults, Ellie slowly withdrew a stack of folded pages.
“See? Paper. Photos, mm-kay?” She plopped them down on the desk. The pages fanned open and everyone’s eyes remained glued on the grainy image on the top. “There. One Johnny Pornstach with the fucking eco-boost Mustang I paid for wrecked to shit so he could shoot your homeboy.”
Don Conti reached across the desk to unfold the pages. He stared at the photo for too long.
“This proves you were involved with my son’s murder?”
“The fuck it does.”
If I had any doubts at all of who wore my wife’s clothing, I had none now. Allie rarely swore.
Don Conti glared at Ellie.
“Right. Look at the next one down. You might recognize someone in a hoodie.” Her eyes shifted to Dianora.
“I should have killed you in Milan,” Dianora whispered.
Ellie was genuinely confused. “In Milan?”
Dianora’s eyes bugged out.
The solicitor, who until now had frozen like mouse trapped in a corner, spoke, “At the dinner. Right before Don Valentini changed his?—”
I smiled. “Yes, I remember that. The money my father set aside for our marriage now goes to a trust.”
“What?” Dianora stepped back, glancing between the solicitor and me.
“The four-hundred million he promised. It’s in a trust you cannot touch.”
Her mouth fell open
“You really shouldn’t have sent your cousin after my bride.”
Meanwhile, Don Conti compared the new photos against the other photos. Their addition filled out the sordid murder of his son. He pulled the image of Dianora from the pile. Familiarity, or simply the eye of a parent damned her. He placed the page flat on the desk and stared at his daughter. “Explain this.”
“They are deceiving you.”
Don Conti blinked once. “I know my own daughter.” The room went quiet at his tone.
Despite knowing he wasn’t as powerful as Don Manca, my blood chilled. There was death in the air.
Ringo felt it, too. He reached out. His fingers caught Ellie’s sleeve and curled into the fabric, readying for action.
“Explain this!” He screamed so violently, spittle shot from his lips.
Dianora teetered on her heels, taking a step back. Her protests poised to spew out as lies. But then, something in her expression changed. “You have two children, had.” She corrected herself before plowing forward. “One who was incapable. Despite the best schools and the best closed-door sessions with you. He was a goat—no a lamb—readied for slaughter. He ruined us with his mistakes.”
She shifted her argument. “And the other child? You ignored her, forced her onto your enemies with a command to marry and breed like a cow. I’m worth more than that. I can lead this family. I will lead this family.”
“You will lead nothing. No one will respect you.”
“They didn’t respect Adelmo. But they’ll respect me. They’ll fear me. I’m your daughter. I’m just as ruthless, maybe more ruthless than you could ever be. At least I recognize weakness when I see it. Instead, you coddled it with my brother.”
Ellie stepped closer to Ringo and whispered. “I can kind of see her point.”
