Chapter 12
I did not argue succession.
That would have accepted their frame.
Instead I asked Samuel Voss:
“Who chose me?”
He frowned.
“Your father named you.”
“Who else?”
“The captains.”
“Why?”
“You were capable.”
“Was I the oldest?”
“No.”
“Was I the obvious choice?”
“No.”
“Then why are we suddenly pretending blood order is sacred?”
Silence.
Victor hated that question.
Because the Marchetti organization had already broken tradition once.
For me.
They only rediscovered tradition when it became useful against Sadie.
I looked at Anthony.
“Was Calvin born for this?”
“No.”
“Does he want this?”
“He’s ten.”
“Exactly.”
I used their word back.
Some men looked away.
I continued.
“No child in this family is being assigned a chair tonight.”
Victor stood.
“You don’t get to decide alone.”
I almost smiled.
“Watch me.”
He stepped forward.
Thomas moved.
I raised one hand.
No.
Let Victor speak.
He pointed toward the senior men.
“We built this family before you knew how to tie your shoes.”
“And?”
His face darkened.
“And you will respect it.”
“I respect what deserves survival.”
Silence.
“Not everything old deserves survival.”
That was the line they hated.
Good.
Gloria looked at me with open contempt.
“You would burn generations for one little girl.”
I stared at her.
“No.”
I glanced at the broken family expense card still in my pocket.
“I’d burn the part that teaches a little girl she needs less so grown men can feel secure.”
That landed.
Samuel looked at Victor.
“Was the council restoration always tied to Calvin?”
Victor did not answer.
Another crack.
Samuel’s eyes narrowed.
“You told me this was about checks on Donovan.”
“It is.”
“No.”
Samuel sat back.
“This is succession engineering.”
Victor’s face hardened.
The oldest man in the room had finally recognized he was not joining a balance movement.
He was joining a child-placement scheme.
That disgusted even him.
Good.
Then one of Victor’s men entered the chapel hurriedly.
He whispered something.
Victor’s expression changed.
I saw it.
“What?”
He refused.
Thomas received a message at the same time.
He looked at me.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Sadie’s room was entered.”
My blood went cold.
“Sadie?”
“Safe.”
I exhaled.
“What was taken?”
Thomas hesitated.
“Her hairbrush.”
Silence.
I looked at Victor.
Then Gloria.
Anthony swore.
A hairbrush.
Not money.
Not jewelry.
May you like
Something carrying Sadie’s DNA.
And suddenly the succession plan had a new, uglier layer.
