Chapter 6
Fourteen people stood.
Not thirty-two.
Fourteen.
Enough.
Lorenzo looked pleased.
I memorized every one.
Then I remained seated.
That bothered him.
He expected shock.
Respect.
Maybe fear.
I gave him none.
“My condolences,” I said.
His smile shifted.
“For?”
“Your funeral was better attended.”
Silence.
Then Arthur Vale laughed.
One person.
Enough to break Lorenzo’s entrance.
He looked at me.
“You sound like Antonio.”
“I’ll recover.”
Agnes sat beside Luca.
Her hands trembled.
Lorenzo looked at her.
“You always were dramatic.”
My mother stiffened.
There it was.
The same man who had arranged her fake death dismissing her fear.
He turned to the standing guests.
“Sit.”
Some obeyed.
Interesting.
Still conditioned.
I did not correct them.
I wanted to see.
Lorenzo walked around the room and spoke like a man returning from exile to reclaim a country.
He told them Antonio betrayed the founding agreement.
Rinaldi was supposed to remain under male succession.
My father broke it first by letting Agnes influence command.
Then worse by preparing me.
I interrupted.
“Where is that agreement?”
He smiled.
“Burned.”
Convenient.
“So it exists wherever your memory needs it.”
His eyes hardened.
Good.
Then he used the line he had probably rehearsed for years.
“A family led by a daughter eventually becomes a family ruled by sentiment.”
I looked toward Owen.
The man who had shoved a seventy-two-year-old woman into a casket.
“Your version of masculinity seems emotionally complicated.”
Several guests looked away to hide smiles.
Lorenzo hated that.
He struck his cane against the floor.
Then revealed his real weapon.
Not violence.
Names.
He listed six Rinaldi branches that had privately pledged recognition to him if he returned.
Fourteen people at dinner.
Dozens more outside.
He did not need to kill me if he could make commands disputable.
Then he looked at Agnes.
“You were offered peace.”
My mother finally answered.
“You offered me a coffin.”
Lorenzo smiled.
“You should have stayed in it.”
Luca stood.
My nephew moved before I did.
Not toward Lorenzo.
Toward his father.
He looked at Owen.
“You helped him say that to Grandma?”
Owen lowered his eyes.
May you like
Something inside Luca broke.
And Lorenzo’s coalition lost its first heir before dinner even reached the main course.
