He pulled a folder from his briefcase, held it up.
"—Evidence that Paola Lombardo was aware of certain illegal activities conducted by her father. That she, in fact, helped facilitate them."
My stomach dropped. "That's a lie."
"Is it?" Viktor opened the folder, pulled out pages. "Bank accounts in your name. Emails from your address. Meeting records placing you at locations where deals were made."
"I never—I had nothing to do with my father's business!"
"Perhaps not. But these documents say otherwise. And they look very authentic. Professional. Detailed."
Cesare's voice was deadly quiet. "You forged evidence."
"I? I did nothing. Bianca brought me these documents. Whether they're authentic or fabricated—who can say? But they're convincing enough that the families would demand investigation. Particularly after tonight's... revelations."
The trap closed. Even fake documents would be enough to destroy what was left of Cesare's credibility.
"They're not all fake," Bianca said, voice stronger now. Vicious. "Some of it's real. I had access to Father's files for years. I know where the bodies are buried. Literally and figuratively."
She looked directly at me. "And I know you found some of those files, little sister. Remember when you were sixteen? When you accidentally opened Father's office safe looking for Mother's jewelry?"
My blood ran cold. I did remember. I'd found documents I didn't understand, closed the safe quickly, never mentioned it.
"You saw things you shouldn't have seen. And you were smart enough to stay quiet. But that silence? That makes you complicit. An accessory. You knew about Father's illegal operations and said nothing."
"I was sixteen! I didn't understand what I was looking at!"
"But you knew enough to stay silent. And that's all Viktor needs. Plausible deniability mixed with just enough truth."
Viktor nodded approvingly. "See? Bianca understands how these things work. A lie wrapped in truth is always more effective than pure fabrication."
Cesare's hand tightened on my back. I could feel the violence barely leashed in him.
"What do you want, Viktor?" Cesare demanded. "Cut through the theater. What's your price?"
Viktor returned to his drink, considering. "What I wanted was offered yesterday: your eastern territory, your shipping routes, twenty percent of your operations."
"And I declined."
"Yes. Which brings us to tonight's negotiation. The price has gone up."
"Of course it has."
"Fifty percent. Half of everything you control. In exchange, these documents disappear. Bianca disappears. You keep your wife, your reputation, your position as Don."
The number was obscene. Surrendering half his empire.
"You're insane," Piero said from behind Cesare.
"Am I? Or am I simply recognizing an opportunity?" Viktor gestured at Bianca. "Your sister-in-law came to me with a gift. I'd be a fool not to use it. And Cesare—you'd be a fool not to accept. Because the alternative is exposure, investigation, criminal charges against your wife, and complete loss of credibility among the families."
"How did you even get Bianca to do this?" I asked, looking at my sister. "Why would you come back? Why would you help him?"
Bianca's composure cracked. "Viktor found me in Prague. I thought I was safe, that I'd disappeared. But he found me within a week."
"And?" Cesare's voice was ice.
"He knew. About the drugging. About what I did to Paola." Tears began streaming down her bruised face. "He had proof—recordings, photos of me buying the sedatives, surveillance of me at the apartment that morning. Everything. Said he'd give it all to you, show you I was the one who orchestrated the switch. That I was the real criminal."
