The Price of Exposure

Candice's P.O.V.

The warehouse area reeked of salt water and rust, and that faint metallic undertone of blood that still lingered on our clothes in the mountain bunker; we were in a loose circle round the SUVs where, as the sheriff said goodbye, I felt like he was sentencing me to death-- everything in those files will become public in twenty-four hours. Mantovani was pacing a few feet away, phone glued to his ear, voice low and desperate as he gave a bark in the direction of our tech team in Italy, attempting to keep the leak contained to dark web forums but not making it to mainstream news, but the expression on his face as he hung up informed me everything- we were too late. Sanna was leaning against the hood of the closest car, his bandaged arm hanging slack, face drawn with weariness and the sort of silent rage that befell him when he knew that his empire was disintegrating, not by bullets, but by the words on a screen.

Dad put his hand on my shoulder, and his voice was soft and disoriented, Candice... what files? What empire?" and I had a sinking feeling in my heart, the familiar pangs of having to introduce this life to the one who had always done his best to shield me out of it. I looked about, trying to find something to say, when Mantovani came in and, with an air of triumph in his defeat, laid a hand on the shoulder of his father, with unexpected mildness, Mr. Thompson I am Mantovani. Your daughter's... with me. It is mine, it is now ours, and the sheriff has taken care not to leave the world unaware of what that will entail. Dad stared between us, eyes open, taking in the blood-streaked shirt of Mantovani, the gun still in his waistband, the leant that I flung into him and I knew the moment of comprehension came: his little girl was not going home to New York dinners any more.

Mom came forward, her voice low, but constant, Richard, we will tell you all, however just now we must take action. The spillage will put the police on our trail, and the deputies of the sheriff will not leave until they have completed the work he began. Dad nodded and the shock subsided into something less dramatic, more determined, "Then we had better go somewhere safe. I will not leave my daughter again. Something just broke open in me, love, guilt, gratitude, all tumbling together, and I embraced him, murmuring, thank you, against his shoulder, and I could feel Mantovani stroking slow circles on my back, and the passion of us a promise which he would not violate, this too.

We loaded into the SUVs, with Dad in the back seat with mom and Sanna and Conti in the front, organizing with the allies on the ground in New York, and Mantovani driving and his hand over mine over the console, fingers intertwined like he was going to make the world spin on a handshake. The rush back in a second safe haven, an old brown-stone house in Brooklyn belonging to a confederate, was oppressive, and each passing cop car almost caused me to leap. Internally, it was bare but safe with reinforced doors, blackout curtains, a basement full of supplies, and all of us sat in the living room with laptops open, phones ringing with alerts as the leak spread.

Conti rolled through news feed, his voice low, - It is hitting local stations already, - Mafia heirs secret life unveiled, - d'Agostino crime family implicated in bombings and murders. They are calling names, taking pictures of the fire on the villa, even ancient surveillance of Mantovani at club meetings. Sanna rubbed his temples, "We knew we could be exposed, we have backup plans, counterfeit identities, offshore bank accounts, escape arrangements, the personal loss.... He faded away, staring at me and my dad and the shame of bringing innocents into this world inscribed on his face.

Now dad sat on the couch, and looked at his hands, and then looked up, steadily but quietly, "I have been years pretending I was not aware of what your mother had got into when she ran. I read the news, listened to the rumors. Hope you would keep out of it, Candice, I just... hoped you would keep out of it, Candice... Both his eyes looked up at me, with the heart of a father, and his pride. You chose it. And, as I have observed this evening--you made a good choice. This man, where he nodded at Mantovani, put everything to the test on your behalf. That's not nothing." Mantovani stiffened, not accustomed to anyone who was not blood, yet he looked up at Dad, when his voice was harsh, I love her, sir. Even more than the empire, more than my life. I'd burn it all to keep her safe." Then we are now family, said dad, who stretched his hand out. Guard her and we shall go through this, the two of us.

The silence was intense, powerful, the erotic exchange of acceptance enveloping us like a blanket, but it ended when the laptop of Conti sounded the alarm with a new alert--the main stream media picking up the story, federal warrants issued on Sanna, Mantovani and major capos, and pictures of me as a person of interest. Mom swallowed and put a hand to her mouth, "They are taking all of us. The war was no longer a shadow, no longer an underground struggle--this was open, lawful, pitiless.