Page 72 of Vicious Redemption

Now, rather than the ally he was supposed to be, he will swear to serve my family. Then he can beg for his life before I kill him.

The men gathered in the ballroom hold a collective breath as my soldiers finish their oaths and stand to watch Don Amici step forward.

“I’m here to congratulate you on behalf of the Amici family, Don Moretti. I have faith you will make an honorable don. As a gift from my family to yours, I would like to give you the title to my yacht moored off Santorini. I hope it will bring you enjoyment whenever your travels take you to Greece.”

“Thank you, Don Amici,” I state, gesturing for him to hand the papers to Luigi.

My butler accepts them, setting them aside as I keep my gaze locked on the rather frail-looking don before me. He’s a shadow of the former power he used to be. His age, combined with his recent defeat against my family, seem to have worn him down significantly. Still, he hesitates to do what’s right for his family now that the time has come to pledge his loyalty to me.

“And will the Amici family be pledging their loyalty to me today? Will you acknowledge me as your capo dei capi? Or will you die here and now?” I keep my voice calm, my expression hard as I wait.

It was purposeful, choosing to have Don Amici go first. His family wouldn’t stand a chance against mine. He was one of the earliest to relinquish his territory to me in the first place. And he’s the least likely to do something rash like resist me.

And when he swears his loyalty to me, that will pave the way for others to do so as well.

But if he does choose to stand against me, I’m prepared to kill him and every last don in this room.

“Your father was a strong man,” he says finally, his eyes grave. “And he has passed his iron will to you. My family and I will serve you, Don Moretti. I hope you do not take our lives lightly, as you hold them in your hands now.”

The words rest heavily on my shoulders, and I respect the old don for doing what he can to protect his family—even if that means acknowledging he must command them to obey me. He gets slowly to his knees but doesn’t retrieve his gun or knife, seeing as my men took each of the rival family’s weapons upon entering the house.

Instead, as he swears his blood oath to me, Luigi provides him with a needle that he uses to prick his finger before staining his holy paper.

As the last of the paper turns to ash in his palms, I grip Don Amici’s shoulders and help the old man rise.

“Godfather,” he says formally, giving me a nod. Then he steps aside to allow Don Valencia to come forward.

34

TIA

I pace the free floorspace of our bedroom with measured steps, too restless to sit still or try and occupy my mind with much of anything but the troubled thoughts that continue to swirl around my mind.

I’ve spent the morning mulling over all the ways I’ve messed up in such a short span of time. In all likelihood, my family will be killed now that I’ve proven utterly untrustworthy. I was the one thing standing in the way of Leo before.

And it seems pretty clear to me now that he won’t concern himself with how I might feel about my father’s death anymore. I can’t stop visualizing the look he gave me when he found Maria’s phone.

The pure venom, the unbridled rage.

His anger filled me with fear-driven adrenaline. And yet, watching him walk out the door was one of the most painful things I’ve ever endured. Because I know it means the end for us. I’ve ruined what we had.

Why was I forced to choose between Leo and my family in the first place?

And now that the decision has been taken from me, I feel as though I’m going to lose them both. My anxiety creeps higher as I think about everything that’s happened—how my father will likely take the fall for Don Moretti’s death.

My footsteps pause as I reflect on that fact.

It does seem odd that Don Moretti would die so suddenly after he appeared to be on the road to recovery. He was always so healthy before getting shot. I find it challenging to picture him suffering a heart attack.

But that’s what happened. No one can deny that.

So why is Leo so convinced it’s foul play? That someone’s responsible?

Because he saw his father as invincible. I can hardly blame him.

But I still can’t believe my father was responsible for his death. Not because he would be incapable of murder. I’ve learned that much—my father is far more violent than I had ever realized. I know that now. But the last time my father betrayed me, he couldn’t look me in the eye. At the charity ball, he focused his attention on Leo, even before the attack, giving me only the briefest of acknowledgments, like he thought I might read his intentions in his eyes.

But the night Don Moretti died, we managed to have a pleasant dinner. Sure, there were a few underhanded comments, but overall, I had thought my parents truly seemed ready to put the past behind them. Right up until Leo announced his father’s death. And when Leo told us, my father looked genuinely surprised.

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