Chapter 12
Gavin took longer.
He blamed Sebastian.
Then Rhea.
Then money.
Then me.
Eventually himself.
In that order.
He admitted he liked the camera.
Not what it did to Ada.
What it represented.
An audience.
He wanted people to watch him force the Bellini boss into submission.
“Why?”
“Because you denied me.”
“The capo position?”
“Yes.”
I almost laughed.
“Four years ago.”
“You embarrassed me.”
“No.”
“I promoted someone younger.”
“Because he was better.”
That sentence still hurt him.
Good.
He built years of grievance around a decision I barely remembered.
Again.
Personal wound dressed as political ideology.
“What did you think happened after I kneeled?”
“Sebastian restores the chair.”
“And you?”
“Security commander.”
Of course.
A job.
Ada’s wrists for a job.
Her water for a job.
Her terror for a job.
He looked ashamed when I said it that way.
Sometimes people hide from their actions behind large words because small motives sound uglier.
Gavin lost every Bellini role.
No estate access.
No training clubs.
No security work tied to us.
He kept personal money.
Life.
Choices.
Rhea lost advisory status permanently.
She moved out of the city.
Sebastian?
Harder.
Blood.
History.
Age.
He expected leniency from all three.
I gave him none.
No internal influence.
No council access.
No contact with Ada unless she requested.
No private meetings with captains.
He laughed.
“You’re afraid of an old man.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“I’m done pretending old men become harmless just because they need softer chairs.”
He almost smiled.
Then:
“Your father would hate this.”
Maybe.
I replied:
May you like
“He hated plenty of things before eventually realizing Mom was right.”
That ended the conversation.
