Chapter 6

"Not from a script," Nico said. "Look those old men on the council in the eye and tell them what you've been through for the past six years. Let them see that you're not just a defendant. You're a sister stabbed in the back by her own flesh and blood."

"Will I be able to hold it together?" My hand tightened on the glass.

"You have to."

"Because if you don't speak, Juliana will tell the story in her version. A greedy sister, clinging to her father's territory, pushing her younger brother out. In her story, Leo is the bird who broke free, and you're the cage that held him."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them again, I nodded.

"One more thing," Nico said. "Leo himself will be there tomorrow."

"It's on the summons."

"Then you two siblings will have to sit across from each other in front of the entire council." Nico's tone grew heavy. "Maeve, you need to be prepared. He will publicly throw mud at you. To win, Juliana has definitely coached him on how to fabricate your 'family secrets.'"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Nico said slowly, "at that table, people will say anything to win."

"He might say you've been skimming protection money from the family for six years. He might say your father's death was suspicious. He might even invent stories about you mentally abusing and controlling him for years. No matter how ugly it gets tomorrow, you cannot lose your composure in front of them."

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the glass.

"I understand."

When I left, Nico walked me to the alley behind the church. Before pushing open the iron gate, he gave me a long, deep look. "Maeve, whatever the outcome tomorrow, you have fulfilled your duty to the Conti family."

The iron gate closed behind me. The humid summer night air, thick with the smell of garbage, hit me. As I walked towards my beaten-up pickup, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

It was a number with a blocked caller ID.

I answered the call.

"Miss Conti." The voice on the other end was deep and clean, a well-educated voice with an accent I had never heard on the streets of New Roma.

"This is Juliana Vance. Before the meeting, I'd like to speak with you one more time."

"We have nothing to talk about."

"Don't be so quick to hang up." Juliana's voice was steady, even gentle. It was a gentleness that gave me goosebumps. "Miss Conti, I know you and your brother have your issues. But the council is not the place to resolve family matters. Once a ruling is made, win or lose, the bond between you two siblings can never be repaired."

"There was no going back the moment he filed that petition."

"Don't be so final," Juliana chuckled. "Leo does care for you. He just wants what he's owed. As his legal counsel, I recommended he follow the proper procedures. But that doesn't mean he has no feelings for you."

I still didn't respond.

"How about this," she continued, in a tone that suggested she had everything under control. "Leo is willing to take a step back. If you publicly admit before the council that you mismanaged the family assets for the past six years and sign over ownership of the tavern to him, he will withdraw the petition on the spot. This is a very generous offer, considering your… situation."

My hand on the steering wheel slowly tightened.

That tavern was my father's life.

"How much is my contribution worth?" I asked.

There was a half-beat pause on the other end.

"Miss Conti, I understand your emotions," Juliana said. "But the law is the law, even in our world. Feelings are a separate matter. According to tradition, the Capo's inheritance belongs to his children. You managed it all by yourself. That's a fact. As for the money you later paid out of your own pocket, or borrowed, that was your choice. Getting it back will be difficult."

"So, you're saying," I said slowly, "that I should admit at the council meeting that I 'misappropriated' Leo's share, and then sign the tavern over to him?"

"It would be better for everyone."

I looked out the windshield. Across the street was a small pizza shop. Its window was lit, and inside, a young couple was sharing a pizza. The girl was laughing, her head resting on the boy's shoulder. An ordinary night for ordinary people.

For some reason, I remembered the night before I sent Leo to Europe six years ago. He had laughed and leaned on my shoulder just like that.

That day, I went to a pawn shop. I took my father's watch out of my pocket and placed it on the counter. I knew it was his most prized possession.

The old pawnbroker examined it with a magnifying glass for a long time and said, "One hundred eight thousand."

I didn't haggle. I took the money and went straight to a broker to pay the "recommendation fee" for his European art school.

I never got the watch back. When I went back a year later with the money, the old pawnbroker said it had been sold to a high bidder.

I never told Leo about the watch.

"Ms. Vance," I heard myself say, my voice steadier than I expected. "I'll see you at the meeting tomorrow."

"Miss Conti…"

"See you tomorrow."

I hung up.

Tossing the phone onto the passenger seat, I gripped the steering wheel with both hands and closed my eyes.

The traffic light turned from red to green, then green to yellow, and back to red.

I shifted gears and slammed on the gas.

As the pickup roared to life, my fingers found the old chain around my neck. It was the watch chain I had managed to get back from the pawnbroker after the watch was gone.

He was about to charge me for it, but he took one look at my expression and just tossed it over the counter.

The watch was gone. But the chain remained.

Tomorrow, I would wear it to the meeting.