Chapter 4
The second method was already inside the house.
Dana told me where.
My study.
Victor had instructed her to place a silver flask on the drinks table after breakfast, something I used occasionally during late council meetings. She had refused.
That mattered.
Not enough to erase the coffee.
Enough to show where her limit finally appeared.
“Who placed it instead?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
I looked at Victor.
He said nothing.
Thomas, my security chief, went upstairs with two men.
He returned five minutes later carrying the flask inside a cloth bag.
Untouched.
Good.
Someone had entered my private study before breakfast.
That required access.
Very few people had it.
Victor was one.
Thomas was another.
My aunt Celia had access.
So did Dominic Ferraro, my father’s oldest capo.
Dominic was due at noon.
My stomach tightened.
Victor watched me realize it.
Then smiled.
“Now you’re finally asking the right questions.”
I looked at him.
“Who gave you the bottle?”
He folded his arms.
“You think I’m stupid enough to answer?”
“No.”
I glanced at Dana.
“I think you’re scared enough.”
His smile disappeared.
I had spent my whole life around men like Victor. When they feel powerful, they insult. When they feel cornered, they hide behind silence because silence looks stronger than panic.
Milo suddenly flapped his wings.
Everyone turned.
The bird bounced once on the brass perch and spoke.
Not Victor.
Not Dana.
A third voice.
Older.
Male.
“Victor doesn’t need to know.”
I felt the room change.
Thomas looked at me.
I looked at Victor.
His face was blank.
Not pretending.
He had never heard Milo repeat that line before.
“Whose voice?”
Dana whispered, “I don’t know.”
Victor knew.
I saw it.
“Who?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
I stood.
That one word was too fast.
“Who did Milo hear?”
Victor stared at the table.
Then Milo repeated the old man again.
“Let the younger one fall.”
Victor shut his eyes.
My father used to call me that.
The younger one.
Only one living man from his generation still used the phrase.
Dominic Ferraro.
My father’s closest friend.
The man who placed the family ring on my hand after the funeral.
May you like
The man who told every capo in the room that I was the future.
Apparently he had been waiting four years to prove himself a liar.
