Chapter 6: The Funeral

Chapter 6: The Funeral

My husband's funeral was supposed to make me cry.

Instead, it made me angry.

The church was packed from the front doors to the last row. Politicians, businessmen, mafia captains, old family friends—everyone had come to pay their respects to Anthony Romano.

Or maybe they had come to see what would happen next.

In our world, death was never just death.

It was opportunity.

I stood beside the casket dressed in black. My daughters stood next to me, holding my hands so tightly that my fingers hurt.

I didn't tell them to let go.

They had lost their father.

No matter what Anthony had done to me, he had still been their father.

The younger one looked up at me.

"Mama?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Is Daddy really not coming back?"

The question nearly broke me.

I forced a smile.

"No, baby."

Her eyes filled with tears.

I pulled her against me and kissed the top of her head.

For a moment, I forgot about the affair.

I forgot about Sophia.

I forgot about the documents Marco had shown me.

I simply missed my husband.

The version of him I thought I knew.

The version that apparently never existed.

Hours passed in a blur of handshakes and condolences.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"He was a great man."

"The family is here for you."

Everyone repeated the same lines.

By the twentieth person, they all sounded identical.

Then Marco appeared beside me.

"You need some air."

"I need this day to be over."

He gave me a sympathetic look.

"Almost."

I nodded and turned back toward the crowd.

That was when I saw her.

At first, I thought I was imagining things.

A woman stood near the back of the church wearing a black coat.

Dark hair.

Sharp features.

Cold eyes.

Sophia Marino.

My stomach dropped.

For a second, neither of us moved.

Neither of us looked away.

Then I noticed the child standing beside her.

A boy.

Maybe seven years old.

Anthony's son.

The child from the photograph.

The child from the documents.

The child Anthony had hidden from me for years.

My pulse started pounding.

"What is she doing here?" I whispered.

Marco followed my gaze.

His expression changed immediately.

"Julia..."

"What is she doing here?"

A few people had started noticing them.

Whispers spread through the church.

Heads turned.

Questions followed.

Sophia seemed to realize what was happening.

She placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Come on," she told him softly.

Then she walked away.

Just like that.

But the damage was already done.

People had seen them.

And I had seen them.

Marco touched my arm.

"Not today."

I laughed bitterly.

"Not today?"

"Julia—"

"She brought him here."

"I know."

"To my husband's funeral."

"I know."

I looked toward the doors where she had disappeared.

The anger returned instantly.

Stronger than before.

The funeral ended an hour later.

By evening, the Romano estate was filled with senior members of the organization.

I sat at the head of the dining table.

The same seat Anthony usually occupied.

Nobody seemed comfortable with that.

Good.

I wasn't comfortable either.

One of the captains cleared his throat.

"We need to discuss leadership."

Another man nodded.

"The family needs stability."

"The territory needs direction."

Translation?

They were already discussing who would replace my husband.

Three hours after his funeral.

Unbelievable.

I folded my arms.

"And what exactly are you suggesting?"

The room became quiet.

Nobody wanted to answer first.

Finally, one of the older captains spoke.

"We simply need a temporary leader until a proper decision is made."

"A temporary leader?"

"Yes."

I looked around the table.

Every face suddenly became very interested in avoiding eye contact.

Cowards.

"My father built this territory," I said.

Nobody replied.

"My husband managed it."

Still silence.

"And now you're discussing it like I'm not sitting here."

A few uncomfortable glances appeared around the room.

The older captain shifted in his chair.

"Julia, nobody is disrespecting you."

"No?"

I leaned forward.

"Then let me save everyone some time."

The room became completely silent.

"Until further notice, I will be handling Romano family affairs."

Someone nearly choked on his drink.

Another man blinked twice.

One actually laughed.

Big mistake.

I turned toward him.

"You find something funny?"

His smile disappeared immediately.

"No."

"Good."

Nobody spoke after that.

For the first time all evening, I felt in control.

Not because they respected me.

They didn't.

Not yet.

But they had finally realized I wasn't going to disappear quietly.

The meeting ended shortly before midnight.

One by one, they left the estate.

Soon, I was alone on the balcony overlooking the city.

The lights stretched endlessly into the distance.

Anthony used to stand here.

He used to talk about power.

About loyalty.

About family.

Funny.

The same man who preached loyalty had been living a double life.

I shook my head.

The pain was still there.

The betrayal was still there.

But something else was growing beside it.

Determination.

Whoever planted that bomb.

Whoever killed Anthony.

Whoever thought the Romano family would become weak after his death.

They were wrong.

Very wrong.

And for the first time since the explosion, I made a promise to myself.

I would find the truth.

No matter what it cost.