Chapter 3
There was no formal succession issue.
That was the first lie I dismantled.
I was twenty-nine.
Healthy.
In control.
Leo was four.
Nobody needed to decide who would someday lead anything.
Frank created the urgency.
Three months earlier, he began telling older capos that the organization needed “continuity beyond Vivian.”
A phrase carefully designed not to sound like a challenge.
It was.
My adviser brought me the messages.
Frank never said remove Vivian.
He said prepare for uncertainty.
Never Leo is weak.
He said assess the next generation.
Never Damon should take over.
He said an adult bridge may eventually be required.
Soft words.
Hard ambition.
I looked at Damon.
“You were the bridge.”
He stared at the floor.
Frank answered for him.
“He has experience.”
“So do I.”
“You are the present.”
I almost smiled.
“And apparently you’ve been planning my future funeral.”
His face hardened.
“Don’t be dramatic.”
There it was.
A woman notices betrayal.
Call her dramatic.
A child screams at a bat.
Call him weak.
The language changed.
The method did not.
I picked up the scoring card.
“Why Olivia?”
Frank’s expression softened slightly.
“She has instinct.”
“She is thirteen.”
“She doesn’t scare easily.”
I thought about the girl swinging that bat while grown men laughed.
Then about her face when the ring fell.
Olivia had looked terrified.
Not fearless.
Trained.
I turned to Damon.
“What did you tell your daughter would happen if she refused today?”
His eyes lifted.
That question frightened him.
Good.
May you like
Olivia had not been merely competing with Leo.
Someone had convinced her she also had something to lose.
