Chapter 7 - The Gathering of the Storm
The night of the Capos' dinner arrived with a silence that felt like the calm before a storm.
The grand dining room of the Rinaldi estate had been transformed. The massive mahogany table was covered in a heavy, white damask tablecloth, sparkling with antique silver, crystal glasses, and towering candelabras that cast a warm, flickering glow over the room.
In the kitchen, I was putting the final touches on the roast.
My hands were steady, but my mind was a battlefield. I had spent the last twenty-four hours thinking about what Victor had done. He had protected me. He had stood between me and my past, risking his own legal safety to keep Lily with me.
But I knew tonight was the real test.
If the boys failed, if they showed the Capos that Victor had lost control of his own home, his position as the boss would be threatened. In his world, a man who could not control his own sons could not control the streets.
"Are you ready, Mommy?"
Lily stood in the kitchen doorway. She was wearing a simple, dark green velvet dress I had found for her, her blonde curls tied back in a neat ribbon. She looked so small, yet so brave, in this house of giants.
"I am, sweetie," I said, kneeling down and kissing her cheek. "Are you going to stay in the playroom with Mr. Esteban?"
"Yes," Lily said. "Tommy said he will be very good tonight. He promised he won't throw any food."
"I hope so," I smiled, standing up as the heavy pneumatic doors of the kitchen opened.
Don Esteban entered, his face serious. "They have arrived, Miss Bennett. Six of the most powerful Capos in the Northeast. They are currently in the drawing room. Mr. Rinaldi has requested that the boys be brought down."
I took a deep breath, smoothing down my black apron. "Let’s go."
The four Rinaldi boys were waiting in the foyer.
They looked incredible. They were dressed in matching black suits, their hair neatly combed, their shoes polished to a high shine. Ethan stood at the front, his shoulders squared, his expression serious. The twins, Mason and Leo, were standing side-by-side, their hands tucked behind their backs. And Tommy was holding Ethan’s hand, his small face calm.
"You look like gentlemen," I said, walking over and adjusting Ethan’s collar. "Remember what we practiced. Eyes up, backs straight, and speak only when spoken to. You are Rinaldis. Show them what that means."
Ethan looked at me, his dark eyes—so like his father’s—filled with a sudden, fierce determination. "We won't let you down, Sarah."
We walked into the dining room just as Victor and his guests entered.
The Capos were men of various ages, but they all carried the same cold, heavy presence. They wore expensive suits, their fingers dripping with gold rings, their eyes scanning the room with a calculating, suspicious curiosity.
They had heard about the "wild boys" of the Rinaldi house. They had heard that Victor was weak, that he was distracted by his grief, and that his sons were out of control.
Victor took his place at the head of the table. He looked at his sons, his face expressionless, but I could see the slight tension in his jaw.
"Sit," Victor ordered.
The boys moved in perfect unison.
They pulled out their chairs, sat down, and placed their napkins on their laps. There was no pushing. There was no whispering. There was no chaos.
The Capos watched them, their eyebrows rising in unison.
"My, my, Victor," said one of the older men, a silver-haired Capo named Bruno, who had been a friend of Victor’s father. "It seems you’ve finally found a whip that works on these colts."
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"They don't need a whip, Bruno," Victor said, his voice calm as he picked up his glass of wine. "They just needed a guide. Meet Sarah Bennett. Our new head of household."
Every eye at the table shifted to me.
