Don Bowed To Me Chapter 24
I haven’t said a word this whole time. Just holding the champagne flute, listening.
My silence gets read as guilt.
My mother presses a handkerchief to her eyes and starts sobbing.
“Hazel, just listen to Dante.”
“I know I haven’t been a good mother to you.”
“But you have real power now. You’re a Vitale. How can you not help the family?”
Isabella lowers her head. Her shoulders start to shake.
“Hazel, I shouldn’t have come. I know you don’t want to see me.”
“But Mom said, if I just knelt down and begged you tonight.”
She stands up from her chair, about to kneel.
My mother yanks her back. But she does it in a way that lets everyone see clearly that Isabella genuinely tried to kneel.
My mother is weeping now, tears and snot mixed together.
“Isabella, don’t do this. Hazel still cares about you in her heart. Right, Hazel?”
Nearby guests start chiming in.
“Yeah, Hazel, you’ve got real power now.”
“You’re all family.”
“Isabella was about to kneel. Can’t you throw her a bone?”
Camilla slowly swirls her wine glass. Her tone dripping with concern.
“Hazel, even if it’s not for yourself, think about the Vitale family.”
“The Family circles around Newport don’t take kindly to a Family member who doesn’t lift her Family up.”
“By then, who knows whether Marchetti will still want you around.”
She smiles sweetly.
“Better think it through.”
My mother hears this and lets go of Isabella’s arm.
The next second, she drops to her knees in front of me. Looks up and wails.
“Hazel! Mom is begging you!”
“Mom is only asking you for one thing.”
“Get Isabella back into the Marchetti family!”
“Even as a mistress, that’s fine!”
Isabella drops to her knees too.
“Hazel, I know I wronged you before.”
“But look at you now. You’re not like us anymore.”
“Just take pity on me, please.”
The people at the nearby tables have fallen completely silent.
Every pair of eyes fixed on me.
Waiting for me to cave. Waiting for me to give in. Waiting for me to say that line about blood being thicker than water.
I slowly set the champagne flute down.
Look up.
Scan the whole table.
“Done?”
I turn to Camilla.
“Camilla. The Draghis invited me here tonight because you want to use Marchetti National Defense Subsidiary’s Newport development to push the Draghi family up one rank in the East Coast Family hierarchy.”
Camilla’s smile freezes.
“Hazel, what are you talking about?”
I keep going.
“You’ve been baiting me all night, trying to get me emotional enough to agree to the inflated price on that piece of land.”
“You even contacted Dante ahead of time, so he could apply pressure from the Family angle.”
I let out a small laugh.
“Camilla, you used this same little trick ten years ago, when you dumped soup on me in the cafeteria.”
“Only tonight, you picked the wrong opponent.”
Dead silence at the head table.
I turn to Dante.
“Dante Falconieri.”
Dante freezes in his chair.
“You just said you’re getting made next month.”
He sits up straighter, but he can’t look at me the way he did before.
“…Yeah.”
I look at him.
“Let me tell you this with full authority. Next month, you’re not getting made.”
Dante’s face starts to change color.
“Your father’s construction company underreported one point eight million in cash flow last month.”
“The Marchetti family’s consigliere has already logged it.”
“The Falconieri crew’s union operation in Providence is being absorbed into another capo’s territory next quarter.”
“You won’t even keep your VP title.”
“Let alone getting made.”
The blood drains from Dante’s face.
“How, how do you know—”
I give a small laugh.
“Because every financial audit of every affiliated Marchetti crew for the defense subsidiary crosses my desk.”
I take a sip of champagne.
“I’m not just a technical consultant.”
I say it slowly, one word at a time.
“I’m the technical shareholder of Marchetti National Defense Subsidiary. Twenty percent equity. Second only to Don Salvatore Marchetti himself.”
“Your father’s line.”
I look at Dante.
“I signed off on it.”
The entire head table is dead silent.
Dante collapses back into his chair.
His whiskey glass tips over. Liquor spills across his poorly-cut three-piece suit. He doesn’t wipe it off.
At the three nearest tables, people start pulling out their phones.
I can see a few of them already typing frantically into Google.
“Dr. Hazel Vitale.”
“MIT.”
“Marchetti National Defense Subsidiary.”
Every result they find slaps them right in the face.
I turn to Camilla.
“Camilla. Marchetti National Defense Subsidiary’s Newport development will not be using Draghi land.”
“At three o’clock this afternoon, Emma sent the rejection letter to your father’s email.”
“I came here tonight to give you the courtesy of telling you in person.”
“Instead, you gave me a high school reunion designed to humiliate me.”
Camilla’s face flushes red, then goes pale.
She stands up and screams.
“Hazel Vitale!”
“Who do you think you are?”
“What gives you the right to make decisions on behalf of the Marchetti family?”
“You’re nothing but—”
Before she can finish, the doors of the Great Hall swing open.
Every head in the room turns.