Chapter 3

I hurried over to Dante. "Mom is in the clinic. She's bleeding internally, and they need five hundred thousand dollars before they'll operate."

Beatrice once said that I could call her "Mom" if I wanted to. She truly treated me like her own daughter, and I grew accustomed to calling her "Mom."

I pointed at the shredded paper on the floor. "I've been here for two hours. I've filled out three requests, but Valentina still refuses to release the money. We have less than thirty minutes left. Dante, tell her to open the vault. We need to get to the clinic now."

Valentina immediately moved to his side and rested her fingers lightly on his arm. Her eyes were already red, as if she were the one who had been wronged.

"Don, you're finally back. I didn't know what to do.

"The Donna barged in. She demanded money without following any of the procedures you put in place. She even interfered when I tried to discipline a trainee for overstepping. I did nothing but follow your rules, yet she blamed me for everything.

"Maybe you should take back the vault keys. Otherwise, people might start thinking I'm abusing the authority you gave me."

Dante looked at the shredded papers scattered across the floor, and his expression darkened.

But instead of asking me what had happened, he reached for Valentina's hand. "I understand. You did nothing wrong. You're the one who was treated unfairly. I'll make it up to you tonight."

His thumb brushed the back of her hand. This wasn't a Don reassuring his Underboss. It was a man comforting his lover.

Only then did he look at me. "Are you done making a scene?"

Tears clung to my lashes.

To save his mother, I had swallowed my pride, humbled myself, and even kissed Valentina's instep.

Yet after hearing what had happened, Dante's first instinct was to comfort Valentina.

"I'm not making a scene. Mom is dying."

"I heard you." He cut me off coldly. "But the Family isn't your personal bank. I put Valentina in charge of the books and the vault because you don't know how to manage the finances. You let your emotions get in the way of the rules.

"Now that Valentina has everything running properly, instead of appreciating it, you come barging into the office and make trouble. Negotiating one successful truce three years ago doesn't mean you know how to manage the money. If I make an exception for you today, every capo will be at my door tomorrow demanding the same treatment."

I glanced at the time. Twenty-three minutes remained.

I couldn't waste another second arguing with him.

I bit my lip, found a new form and wrote the request a fourth time.

This time, I included every detail Valentina had demanded and checked every word for mistakes. Once, half a page in my handwriting had been enough to broker a truce between two warring Families. Now I was being forced to prove to my husband's lover that his own mother deserved to live.

When I finished, I handed the request to Valentina. "No typos. Nothing missing. Please approve it."

She deliberately made me wait before taking it. Then she skimmed the first two lines and dropped it back on the desk.

"The reason for the withdrawal isn't detailed enough, and the guarantor doesn't meet the requirements. Denied."

I stared at her. "I'm the guarantor. I'm the Donna of the Moretti Family."

"A Donna without the seal can't authorize a five-hundred-thousand-dollar withdrawal." Valentina tapped the paper with her ruby-ringed finger. "I decide what gets approved here. If I say it's not enough, it's not enough.

"You want money? Then rewrite it and give me a proper explanation. Until you do, you won't get a cent."

I turned to Dante, hoping he would at least read the request himself.

He didn't even take the paper. "The vault is Valentina's responsibility. If she says you need to rewrite it, then rewrite it."

Whatever hope I still had left in Dante died at that moment.