Page 74 of Vows Made in Silence
“I should send your heads to your families in glass boxes. But instead, I’m giving you a gift—an out. You’ll take it, or you’ll vanish screaming.”
Now I smile. Slow. Dangerous.
“You’ve already lost half your crew in New York. Your man in L.A. turned last week. And if you think Giuliana doesn’t have afile on your boss’s bastard in Dubai, I suggest you ask her about it.”
His face drops.
Giuliana smiles faintly. “It’s a cute kid. Shame if his mother found out where the money really comes from.”
The silence that follows is heavy.
They sign.
Every last one of them.
When it’s over, I stay at the head of the table, unmoving, the weight of victory settled on my shoulders like a tailored suit. One by one, they approach—not to shake hands, not to speak—but to bow their heads and show deference.
They call it respect. But I see it for what it is.
Fear, cloaked in tradition.
And I let them offer it. Because in this world, respect isn’t given—it’s taken. And today I took everything.
Two weeks later, we bury Sal next to the family crypt. Where my brother, father and uncle lie.
No one speaks. No eulogy. Just dirt and wind and a name that used to mean something. A name that once carried weight in whispers across cities. The underboss who watched kingdoms rise and fall.
Sal betrayed us. But in his betrayal, he exposed a deeper rot. He made the truth impossible to ignore. He gambled everything on the idea that the old way could survive.
But there’s no place for the old world now.
Not in my family.
Still, there’s a reason I buried him next to our family crypt. It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t obligation. It was strategy—meant to send a message. He betrayed us, yes. But in the end, he chose the blood over the bargain. And maybe a part of me believed that laying him among our dead would bring the past full circle—cleanly, quietly, and under my control. Because while he betrayed my father, he also gave me the pieces I needed to rebuild the Empire. And maybe, just maybe, a part of him always wanted me to.
Some debts can’t be paid in blood. Only in legacy.
I slip Tommaso’s ring onto my finger.
One brother lost. One traitor laid to rest. One family reclaimed.
The Moretti estate has changed.
The war room is quiet now, its walls free of blood and whispers. Giuliana redesigned it—less steel, more warmth. She left the bullet holes in the far pillar, though. Said it reminds us of what we survived.
Daniel runs across the marble floor as I watch from the doorway. He’s got my scowl and her fire. God help the world.
Giuliana walks in and slips her arm through mine.
“You still thinking about New York?” she asks.
I shake my head. “They’re done. They won’t come back.”
She leans against me. “Good. Because you’re not allowed to miss bedtime again.”
I grin. “Yes, boss.”
She looks at me for a long moment. “You did it, Luca. You ended the ties.”
