Right now, he’s summoned my father and brother to meet with him. I can’t believe my father and brother walked into the Dante estate. It solidified my belief that my father wasn’t behind the poisoning, and the only way to prove he didn’t is to show up. Or he’s hoping that by showing up, Alessandro will believe he wasn’t behind it.
I linger outside Alessandro’s office wanting to hear the conversation. I know I shouldn’t, but I have to know who successfully poisoned Dante men in my home.
"You think I'm a fool, Marco?" Alessandro's voice carries out to the hall.
"You sent poisoned whiskey into my home and want me to believe it was a mistake? My wife could have drunk it. She’d be dead. Do you care?”
I press myself against the wall.
"It was meant as a gift." My father's voice sounds different, strained. Almost as if he’s nervous, which is odd, since I’ve never seen my father nervous. It’s another sign that he probably didn’t poison the whiskey. "If someone tampered with it?—"
“Who?”
I close my eyes, knowing Alessandro’s mind would go to me.
“Could be any number of people. Perhaps in your own organization. It’s well known that you’ve had problems with traitors in your midst,” my brother says in a way that I can picture him with a condescending sneer on his face.
“You’re one of them,” Alessandro snaps back.
There is a long pause. “You’re seeing shadows where none exist, Alessandro, and I for one have had enough of your accusations. I didn’t attack your warehouses or try to poison you. Why would I? We have an alliance,” my father says.
“Your word doesn’t mean a lot after what you pulled with the Bratva.”
“I handed my daughter over to you. Surely, that shows my commitment. Is she not making you happy, Don Dante? I can have a talk?—”
“You’ll stay away from my wife.” Alessandro’s voice lowers to the level of warning. “You need to have a talk with Enrico. If it’s not you, it’s him. You and he might think that losing several of my high-ranking men has left me powerless, but I’d warn you against underestimating me.”
“You talk a big talk, Dante, but I could kill you?—”
I hear movement, and all I can think is someone is pulling a gun. Closing my eyes, I pray it isn’t pointed at Alessandro.
“You’ve made your point, Alessandro. Put the gun down,” my father says.
I let out a sigh of relief and wish I’d been able to see my brother’s face when Alessandro proved he was faster and smarter.
“What you haven’t proven is that I or my son were involved in any of your current problems. There’s no need for you to kill my people at the port.”
I frown. Did Alessandro retaliate?
“Oh, I’m not going to kill them, Marco. I’m going to kill Enrico here, deliver his head to them, and then they’ll know they work for me.”
“You’re just a pussy. Another Don would have killed them already?—”
“Enrico!” my father barks out.
“All I need is a match. They and your warehouse will go up in flames. All I’ve got to do is call Adriano. But see, that’s why I’ll always beat you, Enrico. You don’t think things through. You’re too impulsive. When you die, which I’m willing to wager will be soon, it will be because of your own stupidity, don’t you agree, Marco?”
My father makes a noise that isn’t agreement, but it isn’t denial, either.
“You talk a big game, Dante, but everyone knows your organization is about to fall.” My brother is surely writing checks he won’t be able to cash.
Silence follows. It stretches out until I can’t take it anymore. I risk a peek through the crack in the door.
Alessandro stands in front of his desk, tall and imposing in his tailored black suit. My father and Enrico sit across from him, but they might as well be kneeling. The power dynamic is unmistakable. In this room, there is only one king, and it isn't my father.
“Ignore Enrico. It still stands that you don’t have proof that we’ve made any move against you.”
"I don't need proof or this alliance. I need only suspicion to justify wiping your entire family off the map."
