Page 67 of The Don

Coward.

“Do you have proof that she tried to kill you?” Abruzzo asks.

“If you need it,” I say with a shrug. “But if I didn’t kill her after we married, what would make me do so now?”

“Good question,” some of the capi mutter begrudgingly. I can’t count them all, but I know Calabria, Marche, and Umbria are part of the chorus.

“Maybe we should consider your request now,” Abruzzo says. “You want to leave.”

“I do. So, I certainly don’t need more territory.” I spare a withering glance at Aldo.

“Why now?”

I drop my hands to my lap, and now my back does tighten. I’m afraid to even think of Shae in this room, but I cannot avoid her no matter how hard I try. “I met a woman I do not deserve.” I don’t avert my gaze from the table; that would be a sign of weakness, and I won’t give any of these men the pleasure.

“A woman?” someone asks in disbelief.

“I don’t understand,” one of the other capos says.

Aldo cuts in. “He’s running. He’s been caught out, and he’s trying to escape punishment.”

I roll my eyes. “The only way out, normally, is death. Think before you speak.”

A few of the capi chuckle lightly. Embarrassment and anger bunch Aldo’s features. If only he would learn from this shame before it’s too late.

“Explain yourself,” Liguria says.

I don’t want to. I shouldn’t have to. But life, especially this life, is not fair. It does not respect boundaries, privacy, or trauma. This Board is the thief of time and joy. And I won’t subject Shae and our child to that.

“Many of you knew my father.” I let that sentence stand on its own for a few moments. I look around the room again, and this time, I allow my gaze to linger. I look each of the men who knew my father well enough to have him killed in the eye. So many are dead — I killed the man who pulled the trigger before I married his daughter, the ones who helped dispose of his body died one by one years before that — but the men who ordered the hit are all here in front of me.

“My father was killed before he saw me become a man. He didn’t get to say goodbye to my mother. He never got to set his life in order.”

“Salvo,” someone says, and I hold up my hands.

“Flavia always knew her father’s death was a possibility. She hated me for being the one who killed him, but she knew it would happen one day. But Shae—” Her name is like velvet fire on my tongue. “She doesn’t know this life. I don’t want it for her.”

“So you’ll give it up? For a woman?” Abruzzo asks, his tone light with something that sounds like a blend of awe and disbelief.

“In a heartbeat,” I say, thinking of hearing our child’s heartbeat one day. I’ll give all this up forthatheartbeat.

“What will you do?” Molise asks gently, which is far more shocking than anything else I’ve heard here today.

I shrug and smile. “Whatever she wants.”

“Where will you go?” Puglia spits.

I look at his still-shuttered face. “America.” Only I see that small twitch in his right cheek.

“The only way out is death,” Aldo says, trying to remind The Board of their own ancient rules. But his voice is a plaintive whine, and I watch as men who hate and fear me cut their eyes in his direction.

Aldo never did know when to shut up.

“The woman is here,” Abruzzo says. “We took her with Salvatore as leverage. Whatever we decide to do with him, she will leave here unmolested.”

“I agree,” Molise says.

The table erupts in deliberation, but they all agree to that in the end and I sigh in relief.

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