“Do you want me to join you?”

I’d forgotten that Giovanni was still in the room with me. How long had I been lost in my thoughts? “Yes.”

“All right. Let me say hi to the kids and Val, and then we can head out.”

I gave another terse nod, glad to be alone for a bit. Maybe I had been holding on to certain traditions for too long. Luca had ditched many old structures when he’d taken over as Capo, had even made his brother Consigliere, instead of the man who was designated to have the position by tradition. He’d chosen absolute loyalty and gratefulness over family ties.

The Falcones too had killed many old Underbosses in their territories until only those remained who were as crazy as them and absolutely loyal.

The Outfit was based on continuity. Father always compared it to a clockwork. Every cog in the work had to mesh perfectly for the clock to run smoothly. I’d always considered continuity the only way to guarantee a smooth process. But a few of the old cogs were obviously broken and needed replacement. This would be a long process, a process that would be met with many dissenting voices, so I needed to be absolutely sure of the direction I wanted to take before I made anything official.

A knock sounded and the door opened. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Val. Her arms wrapped around me from behind, her cheek pressing against my shoulder blade. “Dad told me about the Rocco fiasco.”

I covered her hand with mine. “You told me to get rid of him.”

“I didn’t think he’d defy you like that. I only didn’t like him very much.”

“I stand by my choice. I think now that I’ll have to remove Rocco from his position you should become my Consigliere, Val.”

Val froze. I turned around so she was looking up at me. “You don’t know how happy this makes me, but I don’t think this is the right moment yet. Things will get worse before they get better, I can feel it.”

I shook my head. “I’ll do my best to keep the backlash from Rocco’s blunder to a minimum. Trying to negotiate with the Falcones at this point is useless, however.”

“Why don’t you ask my father to step in as Consigliere for now? He’s loyal to this family, to the Outfit, and he keeps a level head. He never lost his mind, even when the thing with Orazio happened. He’s sixty, so it’s an age many soldiers consider respectable for a Consigliere.”

I cupped her head. “That’s something I considered, and maybe I’ll ask him to step in until the Outfit is ready for you.”

Val smiled. “One day they’ll be ready. You’re going to lead us into a modern future. The Outfit needs to adapt to survive.”

I glanced at my watch, wondering if Arturo and Santino had captured Rocco by now. “Can you take care of Maria and her boys today? They might be shaken.”

“Of course, I’ll ask Enzo to drive me and Leonas over there. Anna is over at Bibi’s for a sleepover anyway, so she’s taken care of.” I kissed Val, grateful for having her. Over the years she’d been the rock in my life. She was the one person I could trust in any situation.

When Giovanni and I arrived at the safehouse, Santino’s black 1969 Chevrolet Camaro was already parked in front of it. He’d gotten the car for his eighteenth birthday from Enzo and pimped it ever since. Arturo’s station wagon was right beside it.

“Arturo’s got a strange sense of humor driving an old hearse as your Enforcer,” Giovanni muttered as we headed toward the doors of the warehouse. We had a safe house in several cities where we kept captives for questioning or ransom requests.

“I fear it’s more for practicability than humoristic purposes.”

The vast entrance hall of the warehouse was mostly empty, except for a dining table, mismatched chairs, and a couch with a TV so the guards could entertain themselves. The screens on the desk were black because we didn’t have any captives in the cells at the moment. Rocco sat on a chair, looking flustered, while Arturo perched on a chair right in front of him with a look of a cat trying not to devour the mouse. Rocco wasn’t in his usual suit but in slacks and a pullover, so they’d found him at home.

Santino lounged on the sofa but straightened when we entered. His similarities to Enzo were distant, but unmistakable. He walked up to me and shook my hand then Giovanni’s before he moved toward Rocco.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Rocco said with false bravado and pushed to his feet.

Santino shoved him back down into the chair. “You sit unless your Capo tells you otherwise.”

Arturo gave me a curt nod then focused on Rocco once more. Rocco pushed two fingers into his collar and tugged nervously then he looked at me. He didn’t quite meet my eyes. “Would you explain to me what’s going on?”

Giovanni snorted but Rocco’s eyes were on me.

A tight smile pulled at my mouth. “You really don’t know?” I moved toward him, noticing the fine sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the cold in the building.

Rocco’s eyes flitted to Santino who towered behind him then to Arturo who had barely blinked while he watched him. “Dante, this must be a misunderstanding.”

“Is it? So you didn’t tell your men to attack and kill Fabiano and the Falcones?”

Santino raised his dark brows. Arturo let out a small sound that might have been a laugh.

I stopped right in front of Rocco, forcing him to tilt his head back to look at me. “I gave you an order. It was clear and easy to understand. Capture Fabiano and bring him to me. And what did you do? You didn’t try to capture him. You tried to assassinate him.”

“I did what I thought was right,” he said, the hint of panic creeping into his voice. Maybe he was beginning to realize what this meant for him.

“You went against my orders! I told you to capture Fabiano, not start a shooting in Las Vegas.”

“It got out of control.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I growled. “You sent your men out to kill Fabiano because you wanted him dead. For God’s sake, Rocco, you attacked the Camorra. You shot at Remo Falcone and his brothers. That means open war with the Camorra!”

I had trouble controlling my rage but I wouldn’t lose it in front of my men. “I wonder why you were so eager to kill your son if not to prevent me from finding out whatever secret of yours he keeps.”

Rocco blanched. “We’re both good at keeping secrets, don’t you think? I’m not the only one who killed without his Capo’s orders.”

And I lost it. I clutched his throat, pressing my thumb into his Adam’s apple, making him choke. His eyes watered. I lowered my mouth to his ear. “You won’t say another word, or I’ll do with you what the Falcones did to your men. I’ll start with your tongue then move on to your ears. Arturo’s good at extracting eyes without killing the victim and Santino is very good at breaking bones, one after the other so the torture lasts as long as possible. But you know that, Rocco, don’t you? After all, you were my Consigliere.”

Rocco’s face flickered with fear. I released him and straightened, smoothing down my vest. “Take him into one of the rooms. I’ll need to chat with him.”

“Dante,” Rocco said pleadingly. “This is all a misunderstanding. I’ve always been loyal.”