“I’ll take that to mean these are genuine.” Emilia picked up one of the pages, and Vincenzo leaned in, dark eyes narrowing as he scanned the writing. “This is…” She turned to Marcello, nothing on her face except condemnation.
“This is a distraction,” Marcello snapped. “We are not here to litigate old business dealings. We are here to discuss my son’s?—”
“Your son is directly relevant to these accusations.” Of all people, Uncle Gio cut in smoothly.
“If Dante Dominico was declaredIl Bando di Sangue, then condemned to the pits on your order, Don Marcello, then the question becomes not whether his banishment should stand, but whether your punishment was lawful. And if it was not, thenyouare the one who should be standing before this council for judgment.”
The blood froze in my veins. Only I would recognize that creamy pleasure in Gio’s voice.
Only I would recognize that somehow… this whole scene had all the hallmarks of one of my uncle’s schemes.
Gabriel stayed quiet, his eyes drifting from the pile of papers to Dante.
Then to his father.
He didn’t look like the strong, unassailable heir; he looked… hollowed out, smudges under his cerulean eyes, hands in his pockets. I suspected because he had them clenched into fists to keep from strangling his brother.I knew the feeling.
Vampires were an immortal, patient race, playing games that lasted centuries. I’d expected Dante’s campaign toundermine his father to last for months… not minutes. But with a few carefully chosen words and a pile of stolen documents—because let’s be honest, they were—Marcello’s entire legacy was about to fall.
“You want to punish someone for endangering the D’Immortali Dynasty?” Dante challenged. “Punish the male who would sell any of you out in a heartbeat, like he did his own son. Punish the male who sent innocents into the pits out of malice, not one who refused to die in them.”
Dante lifted his head, gaze unflinching.
He looked noble, with his regal profile and swept-back hair, like a knight facing down a corrupt king. I hated how the sight stirred my heart, how hope took flight, thundering against my ribs.
“I survived the hole you shoved me into.” A muscle in his jaw flexed. “I came back because you don’t get to throw away your own blood and promises and still expect the Dynasty you built on those lies to stand. You swore a vow to Enzo DiRavello. I upheld that oath. If anyone’s honor is on trial here, it’s not mine.”
The quiet that followed was the dangerous kind, with everyone weighing options and deciding which side of the argument they wanted to land on. And from the way they stared at Marcello… that side wasn’t his.
Emilia DiSangue shuffled the stack of papers with exaggerated care. “Council law is… complicated,” she admitted. “But your banishment was never formally recognized bythisCouncil.”
“Agreed,” Severin said, steel sliding into his tone. “The moment you banished a Dynastic heir, this becameourmatter, and the Council was not convened. You treated your son like a disposable prisoner when the law is very clear—family heads and heirs are guaranteed due process from a committee of their peers.”
“This is afarce,” Marcello hissed, spittle peppering the table. “He trespasses on my lands, forces a bond, and you praise him for finding a loophole?” He shoved to his feet, “I am the Don. I have ruled the D’Immortali Dynasty for almost five centuries. My word islaw.This… traitor isbanished.”
But his words rang hollow, and everyone knew it, even Gabriel, who closed his eyes, his face pale.
“This Council makes the laws, Don Marcello, not you.” Emilia lifted her chin, the faintest smile playing at the corners of her mouth, as though she was truly enjoying this.
“Here is my proposal,” she steepled her fingers in front of her. “We recognize the marriage as valid. We recognize Dante Dominico as the rightful heir of House Dominico, with all the responsibilities that entails. We lift the banishment as unlawful. In return,” she went on, over Marcello’s impending explosion, “Dante submits to Brotherhood oversight for the foreseeable future. Under supervision, so there are no surprises.”
Severin’s eyes gleamed. “Acceptable.”
“Hold on,” Rocco huffed. “I vouched for him. What do I get out of this deal?”
Emilia arched a brow. “You get stability. No interference in your operations. And the satisfaction of knowing you’re not on the losing side of a power shift.”
The old vampire considered, then shrugged. “Fine.”
Luca cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable at speaking, but doing it anyway. “The DiRavello House recognizes the marriage,” he muttered, giving me a grudging look. “But we want council assurances Emberline will not be used as a pawn in these ongoing Dominico power struggles.”
“Too late for that,” Dante muttered under his breath, and I resisted the urge to kick him in the shin.
“Besides my niece’s wellbeing,”—Uncle Gio’s tone remained mild.—“we request that any move to disinherit Dante as heir must come before this Council. No more… surprises.”
Ah, that was my uncle’s game. Shoring up access to the Dominico family through his niece by making sure Dante remained in a position of power. My uncle looked like he’d won at the craps tables.
Marcello looked like he wanted to set the table on fire.
