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Though, a few remained skeptical. Some of the men seated on the left visibly muttered under their breaths, leaving their glasses untouched. Gio tipped his glass in their direction–a direct challenge.
Their faces instantly colored.
“What my parents taught us most about the Family was its unbreakable bond. The way we are all tied together from birth until death, in fortune and despair. The sheer respect we have for each other, and above all…loyalty.”
Gio smiled glibly at the somber room.
“Without loyalty, there is no Family. This was a lesson my parents learned too late. The traitors who watched them burn to the ground continue to roam free, and every day that they still breathe is one too many.”
Whispers erupted around the room.
Chairs scraped noisily.
At her side, Antonio whistled low under his breath.
“So,” Gio said, undeterred. “To protect the sanctity of the Family, I ask all of you to remember and uphold these values.” His dark gaze swept around the room, watching, assessing. “And to root out traitors, so they get the punishment they deserve…”
A bloody death.
With that unsaid warning, Gio raised his glass to his lips and downed it in one go.
Chapter 2
Pressure.
It had lived like a weight inside her since their betrothal two years ago, and perhaps even long before that, when she had entered the Mancini household. But the pressure had become particularly heavy after her engagement to Gio was announced.
Their union had drawn much attention, not all of it good. There were whispers and warnings from the start about her marrying such an eminent figure. Some laced with envy and others with alarm. They knew she had the poise but perhaps not the grit to survive him.
Maybe they were right. She was quiet and reserved, content with anonymity and her dresses, while Gio was ruthless and exacting, the most famous man in the Family. This was her duty, though. So she had bravely ignored all the warnings and tried to trust in the quiet man she had met two years ago. But there was no escaping the whispers today.
“What an inspiring speech!” An older man clapped her back as if she’d been the one to deliver it. “Giovanni respects the old ways…just like his father.”
“An ass-kisser like his father, you mean,” another man griped.
“Well, we could use an ass-kisser around here instead of a smug traitor!”
“Traitor? Ha! That boy is delusional and paranoid. Everyone knows the bodyguard did his parents in. He’s just startin’ up conspiracy theories to get sympathy support.”
“I would be paranoid too if my staff turned on me.”
“You’re always–”
The talk of guards and betrayals, along with their open criticism of her new husband, made her stomach burn. What did they expect her to do? Fight them? Sympathize with them? And which of those options would reflect best on Gio?
Ana’s mind screamed with an impending headache. She murmured an excuse, slithering out of their argument. Several other voices reached out to her, congratulating her and summoning her, but she bowed her head as her breaths rushed faster together.
It was all too much. There were too many eyes on her, too many ways she could fail.
She wasn’t fit to be a Capo’s wife; she had once told Gio.
So how could she be a Don’s?
Her throat closed in as her feet carried her desperately out, farther and farther away, into a narrow hallway where there was no one in sight. No guests. No sounds. Nothing except herself and her thoughts.
Closing her eyes, she smoothed the bodice of her gown, recounting each stitch and fold. Calming herself. She knew her duties and had been trained in them. But the weight of her new role–the pressure–felt crushingly heavy today.
Ana had helped her aunt with various social events in the past. But always from the shadows, never in the limelight. She had preferred it that way. Power and attention did not interest her, nor was she skilled in wielding them. As Donna, she could be perfectly mannered and courteous, but not a cutthroat politician.
