Page 47 of Tesoro: Mayhem Makers

“Point of objection,” Marcus interrupts, rising to his feet, his chair scraping against the wood in protest.

“Of course you do,” Angelo scoffs. “Let’s hear it.” Waving his hand in a circle.

Marcus rises to his feet, fastening the button of his jack as he adjusts his stance. “While you are within the law to allow Dante to lead us, I am invoking mobocracy.”

“You can’t.” Remaining in my seat, not bothering to show an ounce of respect for him.

“I certainly can, Dante. Do not get ahead of yourself and think you already wear the ring.”

Murmurs sound around the room, as I lock gazes with Marcus. “You know, I believe my father encouraged my memorization of the laws for this very reason.” Waving my hand, Frankie rises to his feet before handing each member a copy of a photograph he’d shared with us in the car.

“Syndicate law, specifically our laws, require each man sitting at this table to be able to prove their Italian heritage.”

Marcus points at his dark hand and olive skin as several snickers float around the room.

“You, above anyone, should know this considering you used it as a point of contention when my father began grooming Angelo to lead this Family.”

I watch as Frankie tries to hand Marcus a copy, but he brushes it off.

“You might want to look at that, it’s about you.”

“Do as Dante says, Marcus.” Angelo orders, his voice deep with the same anger he had when we learned the news.

I wait until Marcus complies before continuing.

“Earlier this week, I asked Frankie to investigate something important to me, and during that investigation, he discovered something we should all know about you.”

I watched with great delight as the color washes from Marcus’s face. It was clear he already knew the truth written on the page.

“Your father was a strong earner, and according to Joseph, loved to fight. There wasn’t a man he couldn’t best, until there was. A year before he was introduced to your mother, he was chasing after this girl, but her brother wasn’t a fan of his. They fought, your father got in a few punches, but in the end was left in the street holding his junk after receiving two kicks which shredded his balls. Those strikes left him sterile as a cotton ball.”

The murmurs from earlier soften until they’re a memory

“A year later he met your mother, the arrangement details were kept secret, however the truth has a nasty way of coming out. Your mother, like many mafia princesses, was told she needed to marry in order to strengthen the Family. She was paid handsomely to turn her head and keep her mouth shut, even complying when she had to pretend to be pregnant with you.”

“So what?” Marcus tosses the photo to the table. “I'm adopted, so are the two of you.”

“We’re also Italian,” I remind him, flatly. “ According to the information on your birth certificate, your mother wasn’t.”

“Which means you can leave now,” Angelo motions to the door.

Marcus searches the room, looking for what I imagine is someone to stand in his favor. When face after face turns away, he walks with purpose from the room.

“Anyone else with an objection to Dante taking the reins?”

Heads shake and no arguments are made.

“I have information about Kate and her whereabouts,” Frankie whispers in my ear as Angelo begins removing the ring.

Sliding his phone across the table, he points to the email from the management company who ran my building. Retrieving my phone, I log into the security camera of the building, scanning the recordings until I find the one from two hours ago when she enters the building.

“Dante?” Angelo calls my name, lifting my attention to the room with every eye on me. My brother held the ring between his thumb and index finger, waiting for me to take it.

Rising from my seat, I walk around to where Angelo is seated, taking the ring before sliding it on my finger. No one is certain how old the ring is, only that it’s a wedding gift from one of the original Commissioners.

“This calls for a celebration.” Someone, I think Johnny, sang as others cheered in agreement.

“Yes,” I agree. “Today is a day for celebration.” Dropping my gaze to the ring. “At least it will be,” I speak with confidence. “However, you must excuse me, gentleman, as I have just been handed vital information I must act on.”

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