Page 65 of The Don's Eternal Vows

“And tomorrow - I will plant the rumors that some knew all along. I will bribe, take in the sworn allegiances, and threaten bloody murder if I have to,” I growl, taking her hand in mine.

“I have no doubt you will,” Genoveva chuckles beside me.

“Come,” I say. “Let’s go get this dinner started.”

We stride into the dining room, our presence parting the sea of guests like Moses at the Red Sea.

“See?” I turn to face Genoveva. “They all want to take a look.”

“I see, darling,” she smiles. I lean forward, and she gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek. When I look back at the crowd, theireyes flicker between Genoveva and I, but I notice something unsettling.

Rather than fear or awe, they all look confused. I begin to worry that there will be rumors of her return that I won’t be able to control.

"Darling," I murmur, leaning close to her ear, "stay close."

She nods. I make my way to the head of the table, pulling out Genoveva's chair first. She sits, her movements graceful but uncertain. As I take my seat, I survey the room with a practiced eye, cataloging every twitch, every averted gaze.

"Well," I say, my gravelly voice cutting through the tense silence, "shall we begin?"

The room erupts into a flurry of movement as guests scramble to their seats, afraid to make me wait.

As people make it to their seats, I lean back, observing. The conversations around us feel off-kilter, like a symphony playing slightly out of tune. And still, not a single acknowledgment of my wife’s return.

What the hell is going on here? Are they truly afraid to even ask?

Suddenly, a commotion erupts at the far end of the table. Little Mike, three sheets to the wind already, stumbles through the doors.

“Sorry I’m late,” he slurs, swaying dangerously. “need... I need another chair.”

My heart leaps into my throat as I watch him lurch towards us, his tired eyes fixed on Genoveva's seat.

"Frankie," I growl, half-rising, "what the hell do you think you're doing?"

But he doesn't stop. It's like he doesn't even see her. Time slows to a crawl as he staggers closer, closer—

“Little Mike!" Genoveva's voice is panicked. "He's going to—"

I lunge into my coat pocket and stand; my hand now outstretched, gun pointed straight at Little Mike. “Stop right there!” I bellow.

The room falls silent and all eyes turn to me. Little Mike now stands straighter, holding on to the back of Genoveva’s chair for support so as not to sway. He looks at me, utterly confused and hopelessly confused.

"Can't you see my wife is sitting there?" I thunder, my voice cutting through the hush that has fallen over the room.

The words ricochet off the walls, sharp as gunshots. Forks clatter to plates; glasses freeze mid-air. Every eye in the room is locked on me, wide with shock and fear.

Little Mike's face drains of color, his drunken haze evaporating in an instant. "Capo Montagna, I don't—"

"Shut up!" I roar, my finger tightening on the trigger. My eyes burn with fury, pride, and something dangerously close to madness. "How dare you disrespect my wife like this?"

The tension in the room is suffocating. No one moves, no one breathes. I can feel Genoveva beside me, her presence a ghostly warmth, but when I glance at her, the confusion in her eyes mirrors my own.

"My wife sits at my right hand. Always. You will show her the respect she deserves, or so help me God, I'll paint these walls with your blood. Do I make myself clear?"

The silence stretches, taut as a wire. In my peripheral vision, I see hands inching towards hidden weapons.

Suddenly, a nervous titter breaks the silence. It's Antonio, one of my consiglieres, his face a mask of forced gaiety. "Come now, Boss," he says, his voice strained but light. "Let's not ruin a perfectly good dinner over a simple misunderstanding. I'm sure Little Mike meant no disrespect and had too much to drink. He would never disrespect the lady of the house."

I blink, momentarily thrown off balance. The tension in the room begins to dissipate. Slowly, hesitantly, the other guests return to their meals, though their eyes still flick nervously between me and the chair.

---