Semua Bab The Don's Ruthless Empire: Bab 511 - Bab 520

POV: Matteo"If you suspect me, Matteo, have the courage to say it in daylight." Camilla's voice shook with anger, and her hand trembled on the torn page. "Do not creep into my office holding it like a knife."I am Matteo, and the morning light slanting across Camilla's desk showed every line of hurt in her face. Her office sat above the Marchetti freight yards, high enough that the harbor spread below us like a grey cloth, cranes standing still against a sky the colour of wet slate. Isabella stood beside me, silent, her arms folded. I could feel how much it cost her to let me speak first."I am asking, not accusing," I said. "Those are your initials, Camilla.""They are the initials of half the men who ever worked for my family." She slapped the page onto the desk. "Look at the writing. Do I sign my name with two letters? Have I ever in my life signed anything with two letters?""No," Isabella said softly. "You sign Camilla, always, with a long tail on the final letter. I have watche

POV: Matteo"You sat at my kitchen table and promised me Nico's dangerous days were over." Rosa did not raise her voice, and that frightened me far more. "Tell me, Matteo, which part of that promise was true?"I am Matteo, and Nico's kitchen had always been the warmest room in Marabella, full of onions and bread and the clatter of the boy Luca doing his homework at the far end of the table. Tonight it was cold in spite of the stove. Rosa stood with her back to it, a dishcloth twisted between her fingers, her dark eyes fixed on me. Nico sat at the table with a map of the harbor spread beneath his hands. Isabella had come in behind me and stopped at the door, and I felt her go still."Rosa," I said. "I promised in good faith. Nobody expected Bertrand to die, or the harbor to turn against us.""Nobody expects anything," Rosa said. "That is the whole trouble with this family. It never expects, and it always collects.""That is unfair," Nico murmured."Is it?" She turned to him, and her vo

POV: Matteo"Read it aloud, Ottavio." My voice came out low and dangerous. "If you have the courage to hold that page in front of this chamber, have the courage to finish it."I am Matteo, and I had promised Isabella I would sit silent at the back of the council chamber and let the institution govern itself. I had kept that promise through the opening prayers, through Dario's calm speech, through Enzo Brandi's practiced one. Now my chair scraped the stone floor as I rose, and every head turned. Isabella sat three seats away, her face pale and perfectly still, her hands folded in her lap like a woman waiting for a verdict."Sit down, Matteo," Ottavio said mildly. "You are an advisor now, not a voter.""And you are holding an envelope you did not write." I walked forward slowly, my ribs burning with every step. "Who gave it to you?""A friend of the council." Ottavio smiled thinly. "It arrived at my door last night. I confess I did not know what to do with it, so I brought it here, wher

POV: Matteo"They have my daughter, Matteo." Carmine's voice broke in the small back room. "Every month I signed their payments, I told myself I was buying her life. Tell me I was wrong."I am Matteo, and I had faced men who had murdered for far less than fear. But I had never seen a man so hollowed out by it. Carmine Marchetti was gaunt, unshaven, his collar stained with sweat, his eyes ringed dark from sleepless weeks. He sat on the edge of a narrow bench with Camilla's arm around his shoulders, and Isabella stood beside the door, silent, watching him with her head tilted."How old is she?" I asked."Nine. Bianca." He wiped his face with the back of his wrist. "Eleven weeks ago, she did not come home from her school in the harbor district. A man left a note with the porter. It said that if I ever stopped paying, or told anyone, she would be sent away on a ship, and I would never see her again.""And you paid," Isabella said gently."From the Marchetti freight accounts. Every month,

POV: Matteo"Do not thank me yet, uncle." Emilio pushed Corvin gently into the lantern light. "Thank me when you understand what I am giving you, and what it will cost all of us."I am Matteo, and the harbor tower at ten past four in the morning was the coldest place I have ever stood. Wind moaned through the open stone arches, carrying salt and the smell of rotting rope. The great bronze bell hung above us in the dark, green with age, its heavy rope looped around an iron hook. Below, the black water slapped the pilings. Isabella stood at my side with her coat pulled tight, and I could feel her shoulder trembling against mine, though she would never admit to the cold.We had argued about coming here. She had wanted me to stay home and nurse my ribs. I had told her I would sooner lose my legs than let her climb those stairs alone. She had answered that I was a stubborn old man. I had answered that she had married one. Then she had laughed, in spite of everything, and we had come togeth