Chapter 2

Luca walked in slow. Suit. No tie. Silencer already screwed onto the Glock in his hand.

He kicked one of the goons off me and pulled me behind his back like I was made of glass.

Vivian didn't even flinch. She just rubbed her round belly and smirked.

"So this is what we're doing now, Luca? Turning on your wife for a piece of maid trash?"

"Actually, fine by me. Thugs and tramps — perfect match. Keeps you two out of my sight."

"Out of your sight?" Luca took a step closer. His voice dropped. "You forget who signed off on this marriage? If Don Salvatore hadn't taken pity on your bankrupt father, you'd be turning tricks in Atlantic City right now, Vivian. You're eating off our table. And now you're gonna cry it's dirty?"

Her face went ugly. She grabbed her belly with both hands.

"Watch your damn mouth. You want this baby? *Do you?*"

"Then you sign the house over to me today. Every account. Every key. Every capo answers to me until this baby is born."

"Or I take a handful of pills at lunch and you can kiss your bloodline goodbye."

She looked at me and laughed.

"You think this alley cat is gonna give you a Conti heir? Please. Your family's got so much blood on it, babies come once in a generation. Dream on."

The five gold lights were popping off the ceiling. "Bad lady! There's FIVE of us in Mama's belly! *Boo!*"

Luca stared at her belly a long time. Then he walked to his desk. Picked up a pen.

He signed.

He slid the paper across the marble.

"House is yours till the baby's born. And if anything happens to him — anything — you know what I do to people, Vivian."

"You'd better pray this baby comes out breathing."

---

Vivian took that paper and lost her mind.

Three days. That's all it took to trash the compound.

She said the gym stank of "gym rats." Ripped out the boxing ring, the weight racks, the shooting range targets. Replaced everything with a "wellness studio." Bamboo. Orchids. Wind chimes. The soldiers walked in, saw a yoga instructor, and walked right back out.

She said the security guys looked "trashy" in their tactical gear. Ordered custom Italian suits for every man on the compound. Silk. Slim cut. One of the guards tripped over his own pant leg and accidentally shot himself in the foot.

The whole family was miserable.

Then she came for the Memorial Room.

The Memorial Room is sacred. Eighteen generations of Conti photos. Bronze urns. Rosaries. Every capo who died in the line was on that wall. Don Salvatore's own father. Luca's dad, killed in a hit when Luca was twelve.

Vivian walked in, wrinkled her nose, and covered her mouth with a silk scarf.

"Ugh. This whole room stinks of death. Bad for the baby. Rip it out."

The house manager dropped to his knees. "Mrs. Ashford — please — this is the family's memorial hall —"

She kicked over a candle. She set fire to the corner of the rug.

"A bunch of dead thugs in frames. Waste of square footage. This is gonna be my library. I'm hosting poetry readings in here. That's how you raise a civilized Conti child."

By the time Luca got there, his grandfather's photo was on the floor. Glass shattered. Face torn.

Luca pulled his gun.

"You want a bullet, Vivian? Keep going. Give me a reason."

She backed up one step. Then she thrust her belly out and walked right at him.

"Do it, tough guy! Pull the trigger! Kill your last damn heir while you're at it!"

Nonna Sofia threw herself between them, sobbing. "Luca! Luca no! That baby is the last Conti blood in the world!"

Luca's knuckles went white on the grip. He was squeezing the metal so hard his hand bled.

"Fine. *Fine.*"

He locked eyes with Vivian.

"You'd better pray, sweetheart. Pray that baby comes out screaming and healthy. Because if it doesn't — "

Vivian rolled her eyes. "Save the movie lines, Luca. You're a thug with a gun. That's all you'll ever be."

---

Late that night, Luca sat alone in the garden drinking whiskey straight from the bottle.

I came out with a first-aid kit and started wrapping his hand.

"You think I'm pathetic too, huh?" His voice was rough. "My grandfather bled out for this family. I can't even protect his picture on the wall."

I looked up at him. My throat was tight.

"You're the reason this family still exists, Luca. Every guy on your payroll eats because of you. Every widow gets her check because of you. Everyone in this neighborhood sleeps at night because of you."

"The old-timers know what you are. And so do I."

His hand froze under mine.

Then he turned his wrist over and grabbed mine. Hard.

Above us, the five little gold lights were spinning in circles.

"Mama's so nice! Don't cry, Mama, we'll grow up fast and beat up the bad lady for you!"

---

Just after dawn, Marco came running in white as a sheet.

"Boss! Boss, we got a problem — Sean Ashford, Mrs. Ashford's old flame — the Feds just picked him up! Wire fraud. He skimmed thirty million off the family's shell company!"

The words hadn't even hit the floor when Vivian kicked the door open.

"Luca. Get. Him. Out."

"Every hair on Sean's head better stay on his head, or I swallow a bottle of RU-486 right now and end your bloodline. Try me."