“I never wanted to be don,” I remind him bitterly.
“None of us wanted this, but here we are. What does Agnello think you want?”
“The marriage,” I say. “I made it clear. Give me your daughter, or I’ll take her and kill you.”
“And what doyouwant?” Sofia asks.
I think of Adora sobbing on her bedroom floor, surrounded by the pieces of her family portrait. I think of the velvet box. The eagle-and-raven necklace I commissioned for a bride I was supposed to become engaged to seven weeks ago.
My answer is raw and savage. “I want Agnello dead.”
It’s the only answer I can give right now. The only answer that doesn’t make me feel like I’m betraying my family’s memory.
Matteo leans forward. “If you marry her, you become Agnello’s son-in-law. You’d have access to his home, his businesses, his inner circle. You could destroy him from the inside.”
“Or,” Sofia says pointedly, “you could actually build a life. Create something good out of this tragedy. Honor the alliance your father wanted.”
I laugh bitterly. “With the daughter of the man who killed him? Who killed your son? That’s not honor. That’s betrayal.”
Grief flashes in Sofia’s eyes, and her body tenses. “Do you really think your family would want you to destroy an innocentwoman in their name? Is that how you think I want you to honor my son’s memory?”
I clench my hands on the sides of my head. I don’t know what’s right anymore. All I know is that every time I close my eyes, I see Adora’s face. Her tears. Her desperation.
I remember in vivid, hungry detail the way she kissed me back.
“Get some sleep,” Sofia says, standing. “We all should. Things will be clearer in the morning.”
“What about the Dervishis?” Matteo asks. “The stolen weapons?”
“I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” I reply.
Matteo nods reluctantly and stands. He kisses his mother’s cheek, claps me on the shoulder, and heads out the back door to his car.
Sofia lingers in the kitchen. “Vincenzo?”
“Yeah?”
“Your father’s ring.” She nods toward the study. “It’s waiting for you.”
The Vici don’s ring. The raven carved in obsidian, set in silver. The symbol of leadership and responsibility, and everything I don’t want.
If I put that ring on, they really will all be dead.
I can’t do this by myself.
“I’m not ready,” I say.
“You’ll never be ready, but that doesn’t mean you’re not the man for the job.” She pauses at the door. “Think about what kind of don you want to be. The kind who destroys, or the kind who builds.”
She leaves me alone, and I sit there for a long time, staring at nothing, but thinking about everything.
Finally, I force myself to stand. My body feels heavy, like I’m carrying the weight of the dead.
I walk to my father’s study. Moonlight streams through the window, illuminating the desk where my father used to work. This is where he built the Vici empire into something formidable.
Where he arranged my engagement to Adora Montoni.
The ring sits on the desk, exactly where Sofia left it seven weeks ago. The obsidian raven gleams.
