Page 23 of Revenge & Ruin

I share a look with my mother before we both follow him inside. To my dismay, this doesn’t seem to be an empty threat. Leon has the plan projected onto the back wall and the map of New York and Brooklyn in the middle of the table is riddled with marks.

“You’ve got to be joking,” I comment aloud, earning me a few wary glances from around the table. At least the men have enough respect– or fear– not to comment on the state of my attire.

“Vitale started this.” Leon points at me angrily. “I’m going to fucking finish it.”

“Jesus, Leon. This isn’t a schoolyard. You can’t just start a war with the Guild because you feel slighted.”

His eyes bulge at me. “Slighted? Vitale declared war on this family the second he decided to abduct you. He flaunted you, Issy. You think I can just stand by while he disrespects me like that?”

“I got away, didn’t I?” I fold my hands over my chest. “Which tells you what?”

“That he’s a fucking fool!”

I roll my eyes. “Now you get it. Teo Vitale is not a threat to you. He talks the talk but has no follow-through. Plus, he has the inflated ego of someone who’s been coddled by the Morettis his entire life. Starting a war would just be a waste of resources.”

“How did you escape?”

This question comes from my mother, now casually leaning against the wall near the door.

I turn to her with a knowing look. “He was very easy to distract.”

We’ve always been able to communicate like this, small looks that share what we’re both feeling. I suppose it comes from years of being under her near-constant tutelage, hoping to shape me into her own little protégé.

I don’t suffer under any delusion that our relationship is, well, different from most mothers and daughters. For one thing, Ida looks quite proud that I was able to do what needed to be done in order to escape.

From what I’ve gathered, most mothers don’t encourage their daughters to use their bodies to get what they want. But we’re not like most families. And I will always be grateful that she trained me to be a weapon in my own right.

Daughters are too often neglected in favor of nurturing the male heir. I like to consider myself quite lucky.

“Isabella is right, Leon.” Ida turns to address the room. Her voice is quieter than Leon’s angry shouts but holds no less authority. “There is no point attacking the Guild now that she’s been safely returned to us.”

Leon glowers at us both, clearly feeling somewhat outnumbered despite the fact the dozen or so other men in the room are quite literally at his beck and call.

Finally, his gaze lands on Ida. “Why did you tell her to go?”

Ida moves to the head of the table, her movements so graceful I could have sworn she was floating to Leon’s side.

“Whether you like it or not, the Guild has a chokehold on Brooklyn. The only reason they haven’t crossed the East River is because of our alliance with Giuliano Moretti.” She spells it out as if she’s speaking to a child.

This seems to infuriate Leon more. “I know, but?—”

“It is in our best interest not to go to war, Leon,” she snaps over his interruption, “because, quite frankly, I’m not sure you’d be able to win.”

This clear display of defiance immediately increases the tension in the room tenfold.

“You underestimate me, Mother,” Leon replies through his teeth.

“I appreciate you perfectly. If you want to take down the Guild, fine. But you need to be smarter than,” she gestures with an unimpressed look at the plan to set seemingly the entirety of Brooklyn on fire, “this. Besides, your sister can handle herself.”

Ida is right, of course. But her dressing down only seems to aggravate the issue. I note the way several of the men exchange glances.

It’s not an ideal situation. My father’s death had been rather abrupt and Leon’s ascension to don hadn’t exactly been a smooth transition. And, with my mother perched on Leon’s shoulder, the seeds of dissent will quickly spread.

They’d tolerated it with my father, but it seems the Prince’s Hand wasn’t keen to have their don puppeteered by Ida Natali again. It’s inherently sexist, really. But I’ve seen organizations crumble under lesser circumstances.

That’s why I find myself playing peacekeeper so often.

“Why are you here, Mamma?” I say firmly enough to snatch everyone’s attention. “If you knew I’d be fine, you shouldn’t have left the safe house.”

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