"You don't have to."
"I want to. A father should be there when his daughter does something difficult."
A father should be there.
Mine wasn't, for sixteen years, and it wasn't his fault and it wasn't mine and the people whose fault it was are dead or being dismantled, and the man sitting in front of me with my eyes and my mother's grief wants to be here now.
"Okay," I say.
The door opens and Carmelo comes in with three men behind him. I recognize the energy before I see the faces. These are his brothers. Not by blood. The same way Carmelo wasn't Aurelio's son by blood. Chosen family.
The Bonaccorsos.
The first one is tall, dark-haired, carries himself the way Carmelo carries himself, with the weight of authority that doesn't need to announce itself. Leone, The Don. He looks at me and his face doesn't change, which I understand now is a family trait.
The second is leaner, sharper, wearing a suit jacket over a black shirt, a laptop bag over his shoulder. He introduces himself as Matteo
Claudio is quiet, but I recognize the restless energy almost immediately. He’s leaner but with a warmer face, and a scar on his left hand that catches the light.
They fill the apartment. Four Bonaccorso men, a Ferrara father and a woman sitting on a couch makes this space much too small for all this energy.
Leone steps forward and shakes my hand before looking at Leone. "She stays in Philadelphia?" he asks.
"She stays if she wants to," Carmelo says.
“I do.” I nod at them both. “I do want to stay, my life is here.”
"Then we set up infrastructure, if that’s what you want. Claudio runs security. Matteo runs the legal cover. I'll handle the network response from the compound." Leone turns back to me. "Grace."
"Graziella," I say.
Something moves across his face. Not a smile. An acknowledgment. A fraction of an inch of opening in the Don's expression that tells me I just earned something.
"Graziella," he says. "The family is yours. Whatever you need."
"Thank you… for taking care of the men who killed Javi.”
Leone looks at Carmelo. Carmelo looks at the floor. “That’s what family does.”
Matteo hands Carmelo a folder. “The network.” Everything Alexandra has mapped, every connection, every handler, every shell company, every placement. “We want you to have a copy for when you set up so you know who to avoid. Who to trust. And we will be here. Antonia has been wanting to move, maybe we will come to Philly.”
“Got it.”
“We’re going to head home. Drives long and the wives are restless. I’ve had to tell Charlotte we’re fine about thirty times and then Alex called saying she’s making sponge cake.” Claudio smiles and grips Carmelo's shoulder on the way out. Carmelo puts his hand over Claudio's for one second. Then Claudio lets go and follows Matteo down the stairs.
Leone stops at the door and turns back. "Carmelo, call if you need us. There’s always room for you both at the compound."
"She'll decide when the time is right."
"Yes," Leone says. "She will."
We walk him out and he leaves. Renzo follows behind, takes my hand one more time, presses his lips to my knuckles.
"I'll be at a hotel," he says. "Call me tomorrow. I'll come back whenever you want. Every day. Every week. Whenever."
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow." He looks at Carmelo over my head before nodding and then Renzo leaves.
