I quirk a brow. “Hasn’t Cesare told you what I want?”
“Oh, yes.Peace,” he drawls dramatically. “If peace is what you wanted, where is yourPakhan?” He looks around, as if searching for him. “Besides, why would I wave the white flag when I’m obviously winning this war? I caught you like a motherfucking rat.”
“Didyoucatch me? Or did I come to you in good faith?” I ask.
Cesare shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He must have told Antonio I walked onto their property unarmed.
“There’s nothing good about you, Mikhail. I have no reason to trust a word coming out of your mouth,” Antonio says.
And yet, he’s curious about what I have to say, and he knows it. Letting myself get caught was meant to show him I had no intention of prolonging the war, which I obviously succeeded at.Otherwise, I wouldn’t be in this office—he wouldn’t have given me the time of day. Now all that’s left is to tell him my offer and use the leverage I gathered over the past month.
“Then pick up the phone,” I say. “Tell myPakhanyou caught me, and that in return for my retrieval, you’ll take half of Chicago.”
As expected, Antonio’s ears perk up. Cesare’s too.
Our organizations have been fighting over Chicago for years. Splitting it would be a step forward towards sharing power on the East Coast. Not ideal for us, of course, except I know it would only be temporary.
“You don’t have the power to negotiate something like that,” Cesare says.
I offer him a cold smile. “Yes, I do. Your knowledge of my relationship with my brother is simply outdated.”
“Sure it is.” He scoffs.
Antonio raises a hand, silencing hisconsigliere. “I won’t deny your pathetic break-in attempt hasn’t raised questions. We’ve done our homework. We know exactly who you are—impulsive, reckless…but sadly, not an imbecile. What I’m interested to know is: why would you go to all this trouble to make peace with us? What’s in it foryou?”
Here we go. My favorite fucking part.
I open my mouth to answer, but Antonio beats me to it to add, “Think very carefully about your next words, son. Because make no mistake, there’s still a very good chance you’ll die in this house. For your own sake, I hope you won’t be wasting my time.”
Normal people—people who aren’t fucked in the head—would probably grow sweat on their palms at that kind of threat. But I’ve always known my plan isn’t bulletproof.
Icoulddie here if Antonio refuses to see the logic in my proposal, the mutual benefit. No one back home would try to get me out—they’d have to give too much in exchange for my life,and I’d slit my own throat before I let them make any sacrifices on my account.
When I came up with this idea, I made peace with that scenario, so Antonio can make all the threats he wants.
I shift my eyes between him and Cesare, enjoying the silence. The Don takes out a cigar, and Cesare lights it for him, as if they’re not too curious about what I have to say in the slightest, as if it’s a privilege to even be allowed to open my mouth. Gotta love their theatrics.
“My proposal is very simple,” I finally say, regaining their attention. A thin ribbon of smoke floats in the air, as if a bomb is about to detonate. “In return for my involvement ensuring you get half of Chicago and that our war comes to an end, I’ll leave this place—alive,” I emphasize, “with your daughter as my wife.”
For a second, Antonio’s face is blank, but not Cesare’s—he looks like he’s about to strangle me, and I don’t know why, but it pisses me the fuck off.
I watch the reaction unfold on both their faces, and, as expected, it’s not exactly a pretty sight. Antonio’s upper lip curls under his mustache, showing a flash of teeth.
The clock on his wall ticks, counting the silence between us.
Until finally, he loses his shit. “Take this fucker back to his cell. Lock him the fuck up.”
“And you sayI’mimpulsive.” I roll my eyes, holding his attention for one final moment. “Think about it: our marriage will solidify our alliance publicly, lest you think I’m here to play games. Besides…let’s not pretend I wouldn’t be doing you a bigger favor by taking her home with me. You can’t just give her away to acapo’s son, even if you want to. Because Antonio, you and I both know the truth about what the girl is…”
I’m shoved away from the chair, which falls to the floor with a thud. As the guards drag me back to the door, I let them, butnot before looking straight into the Don’s eyes and finishing my sentence?—
“A murderer.”
9
Cecilia
Music echoes from the piano in the corner, played by hands that aren’t mine. I stare at the keys, numb and silent, my view occasionally obstructed by guests as they mingle. We’re in the ballroom my mother built when she was alive, the space large and tall, adorned with intricate panels on the walls and white oak planks under my feet.
