Don Bowed To Me Chapter 32
The council chamber was silent for a full thirty seconds.
The first person to stand was the old man seated at the far end of the table.
Rocco Vitagliano.
Seventy-nine years old. He’d been working for the Marchetti family since 1968.
The most senior capo in the room.
Rocco gripped the table’s edge and rose to his feet.
His back could no longer fully straighten.
But his voice was still clear.
“Dr. Vitale.”
“When I first sat in this room in 1968.”
“You hadn’t been born yet.”
“I’ve been present for thirty-seven family meetings.”
“I’ve seen men inherit positions.”
“I’ve also seen men destroy them.”
He looked at me.
“I’ve never seen a woman sit here.”
“Much less a woman who isn’t pure Italian.”
The entire room went quiet.
Then Rocco said:
“But I’ve also never seen anyone, in a single night.”
“Lay out five years of the Rizzo family’s strategy on this table.”
The seventy-nine-year-old man slowly bent at the waist.
And bowed to me.
“Dr. Vitale, on behalf of my crew.”
“I accept your leadership seat. Please, sit.”
The second man stood.
Marco Ferrari.
A capo under Sebastian’s direct command.
The third.
Franco Bellandi.
The fourth.
The fifth.
One after another.
By the time the twentieth man was on his feet.
Gino Palermo slowly rose as well.
He didn’t speak.
He simply lowered his head.
In the end.
All forty-nine men stood.
The only ones still seated were Don Salvatore and Sebastian.
Don Salvatore smiled.
“Dr. Vitale, sit down.”
I walked over.
And sat in the chair at Sebastian’s right hand.
Forty-nine capos bowed their heads to me in unison.
In that moment.
A rule the Marchetti family had upheld for over a hundred years.
Officially came to an end.
Don Salvatore then announced three decisions.
First.
Marchetti Defense would immediately launch the Newport Coast Acquisition Plan.
All Rizzo-linked companies connected to the three critical parcels of land would enter acquisition proceedings.
Every transaction conducted through attorneys, finance departments, and legitimate commercial channels.
Co-signed by Sebastian and myself.
Second.
Vincenzo Marchetti’s original thirty-day deadline to leave the East Coast.
Reduced to seventy-two hours.
Third.
Don Salvatore reached into his inner breast pocket and produced a small box.
He opened it.
Inside was a black onyx ring.
The Marchetti family crest engraved on its face.
Since 1912.
This ring had belonged only to the Donna of the Marchetti family.
The last person to wear it had been Sebastian’s grandmother.
Donna Isabella Marchetti.
After her death.
Don Salvatore had locked the ring in his safe.
For seventeen years, no one had worn it.
Don Salvatore placed the ring in front of me.
“Dr. Vitale.”
“From today.”
“It belongs to you.”
The council chamber fell silent.
I looked at the ring.
Then looked up.
“Don Salvatore.”
“By Marchetti tradition.”
“This ring should be placed on the Donna’s hand by the future Don himself.”
“Isn’t that right?”
The smile in Don Salvatore’s eyes deepened.
“You know our traditions better than I do.”
He pushed the ring toward Sebastian.