Rafe
My footst eps echo down the hall as I march toward the meeting room.
Silas walks at my right hand. Cassian on my left. Kellan and Devlin trail behind.
My brothers know how important this moment is to the future of our family.
“All our hard work hinges on a fucking vote,” Silas says when we reach the door.
Inside are the Capos and Lieutenants, the men important enough to deem worthy of
showing up and getting a say tonight. “You do know it’s nearly split down the
middle?”
“Nearly being the operative word there,” Devlin says with a manic grin. “All we
need is one.”
“I can even the numbers,” Cassian offers, touching a hand to his belt. I’m guessing
he’s got at least a dozen knives hidden on his person.
I face them. These four men I helped raise after our parents burned.
Each gazes back steadfast and calm.
Clever and charming Silas.
Brutal and quiet Cassian.
Brash and outgoing Kellan.
Wild and ambitious Devlin.
The four pillars of my life.
It’s strange, pausing here with them now. I remember when they were children.
Especially Devlin, the youngest of us.
Now we’re men. Our knuckles are inked in black: ASHES. The promise we swore
to each other, the vow we took.
“Whatever happens in there, you are my brothers.” I meet each of their gazes. “I’m
honored to be your Don, and I’ll do whatever it takes to hold this family together.”
Silas speaks first. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “It’s not all on you, brother.”
“He’s right.” Kellan wraps an arm around Devlin. “You think you’ve been doing all
this shit alone?”
“If only,” Cassian mutters grimly.
“What they mean is we’re in this together.” Silas squeezes tighter. His normal
smile is gone. “We have your back. To death and ash.”
“Death and ash,” I say, pressing back against the flood of emotions I feel.
We’ve worked so hard to get where we are now. Powerful, connected, dangerous.
And if tonight goes right, we’ll take that next st ep up.
The future is so close I can almost feel it.
I turn and push open the doors.
The meeting room is brightly lit. I march to the head of a massive table. The
decorations are subtle and appropriate: crystal vases, dried flowers, cigar boxes.
Decanters of whisky are scattered all over. The smell of smoke is fresh in the air.
Fitting, I think.
Forty-plus men sit around the edges, each of them a piece of the great machinery
of the Corvino might. Enzo Palladino, graying hair, grizzled and
quiet with his son Gio at his side. Angelo Sartori, a funeral director, dark hair, dark
stare. Rocco Malvasi, young and brash. The old world and the new gathered together
at last.
The low murmur dies down. The men puff their cigars, sip their drinks, and watch.
I settle into my seat with my brothers split to either side. Cassian and Silas right,
Kellan and Devlin left.
“Gentlemen, thank you all for coming.” I meet their gazes one after the other. Silas
spent the night before getting me up to speed on where they all stand and I’m
reasonably certain I know how this meeting is going to shake out.
It’ll be close.
“We’re here to discuss our future.” I continue since none of the gathered men are
bold enough to speak up yet. “You all understand the stakes. The Corvino
organization’s deal with Denning can change all our lives. It will be the engine that
drives progress, that pushes us into the future. For too long, our family has been
content with small stakes and turf wars, but that changes today. If we do not seize
this opportunity, it may never come around again, and look at the lands cape around
us. It’s littered with the corpses of once-powerful families who failed to change with
the times. We will not falter and we will not fail. I ask for you to vote in favor of the
merger. I ask for you to vote for the future.”
Silence settles again. I sit and my brothers sit with me. Finally, Enzo Palladino
speaks up. “You say the future. But the future for who?”
His voice is low and grinding. I expected this, but it doesn’t make me happy.
“The fuck you mean?” Rocco Malvasi asks, sounding annoyed.
“He means, who comes along in this grand vision?” Gio Palladino asks, taking over
for his father. “Am I going to be a CEO in this company? No, I’m some fucking street
guy. I know turf. I know corners. I don’t know business. You all think this will benefit
us—“ He gestures at the assembled
men at the table. “Or it will benefit them?” He waves a hand toward my brothers
and me.
A soft susurration of talk filters around the table. I can tell Devlin’s trying hard to
ke ep his mouth shut. We already agreed I’d do the talking. But following the rules
isn’t his strong suit.
“You won’t all work at Denning, that’s true,” I concede. “But the fruits of Denning
will be shared the way everything is shared within the organization.”
“How can we be sure?” Angelo Sartori asks. “If you do this merger and devote our
resources to this endeavor, how can we know you won’t simply leave us all behind?”
“My god, listen to you people,” Devlin says, his patience shattering. “You sound
like a bunch of fucking—“
I still him with a sharp gesture. He grunts and clenches his jaw and curls his hands
into fists, but sits back.
I turn back to Sartori. “You know me, Angelo. You’re one of the few men who
followed me after my parents died. I’ve done right by you, always been honest,
always been clear about my shortcomings. You’ve flourished because of me. And now
you don’t trust me?”
Sartori says nothing.
It’s painful. I can’t pretend otherwise. I wish I were as blackened and burned as I
try to be, like my emotions were ripped out of me during the fire. Instead, I cringe,
knowing these men who I’ve worked tirelessly for, who I’ve sacrificed and killed for,
now don’t believe I have their best interests at heart.
There’s a banging at the door. It slams open and every head swivels. I get to my
feet as Ignazio strides into the room alone, none of his men near him, my guards
following at a respectful distance but not stopping him. I glance at the man leading
the protection duty and he nods once to me, signaling that Ignazio’s been checked for
weapons.
“I almost thought you’d do this without me.” Ignazio’s voice is a wheeze. He looks
bad, like he lost weight. His pallor is yellow and unhealthy. His eyes are bloodshot.
His suit’s new though and he stands at the other end of the table like a boxer
squaring up to his opponent.
“And yet here you are.” I cock my head to the side. “Do you plan on killing any
more women and children before this meeting is over?”
Ignazio grins viciously. “If I wanted your slut wife dead and your bastard kid
slaughtered, they’d already be in their graves.”
The room bursts into action. Half the men get to their feet, shouting at Ignazio.
Rocco Malvasi roars the loudest: “How dare you insult the Don like that, you fucking
dickhead prick!”
I wait for the outrage to settle. The room teeters toward violence. Even my
brothers look like they’re barely restrained.
“You come here and insult me. You turn Nunzio against me, and now he’s dead.
What else will you do to rip this family to pieces?”
Ignazio’s sneer is ugly. “You accuse me of ruining this family? I’ve known you
since you were a child, Rafe Corvino, and you are as arrogant and foolish as you’ve
always been. We made a mistake following you back then and we will make a mistake
following you now.” Ignazio holds up a hand when the room threatens to erupt into
another uproar. “Hear me now, friends. You’ve known me a long time. I followed the
Old Don, the good Corvino, all my life. I followed his oldest child when he perished in
that tragic fire. But I will not watch this family ruin itself for this man’s glory.”
Anger simmers inside. How dare Ignazio come here and speak to me this way?
After everything he’s done? The fool is a traitor and a bastard, but I have to let him
have his say.
“You men know me!” Ignazio says louder, and I feel something in the room shift.
Fewer of the Capos are standing. More of them seem to be listening thoughtfully.
“He wants to remove the old guard and torch the old ways. He wants to take what
made us strong and rip it to shreds. He wants to bury us! He wants to bury all of you
alongside me! And for what? For some fucking
company?” Ignazio bangs his hands on the table. “For his own vain glory. If we
follow him, we will lose everything we’ve worked so hard to create.”
The talk this time doesn’t sound so angry. I notice more than a few interested
frowns. I glance at Silas and the look on his face confirms what I’m feeling.
The scales tipped.
One or two votes. That’s all he needed. And Ignazio was brave enough to show up
here, which says a lot about his convictions, and smart enough to say what
everyone’s been thinking.
And now it’s finished.
I sink into my seat. I let the room see me as I stare down at my hands, at the
tattoos on my knuckles.
ASHES.
Is that all I’ve ever been?
Everything I’ve given to these men. All the sacrifices I’ve made.
I could’ve had more time with Hattie and June.
But instead, I hid them away and I threw myself into the family’s work.
Only to end up beaten by a traitor.