Chapter 8 - The Housekeeper at the Head of the Table
Victor's arrest changed Chicago before sunrise.
By noon, three Moretti companies had been raided.
By evening, six executives had retained criminal defense attorneys.
By the next morning, Leo’s family had decided Mina was responsible.
Not Victor.
Not Dante.
Mina.
Leo learned this at Sunday dinner.
Thirty-two relatives sat around the long dining table at Moretti House.
Mina was not invited.
She attended anyway.
Technically, she was working.
“Absolutely not,” Leo told her.
“The caterer canceled.”
“Hire another.”
“At four hours’ notice?”
“Yes.”
“You really don't understand normal employment.”
Leo rubbed his forehead.
Mina continued setting silverware.
His aunt Sofia entered and stopped.
“What is she doing here?”
Mina smiled.
“Forks.”
Sofia ignored her.
“Leo.”
“I see her.”
“Victor is in federal custody because of that woman.”
Leo turned slowly.
“Victor is in federal custody because he stole from cancer patients.”
Sofia lowered her voice.
“Family matters stay inside family.”
Mina stopped polishing a glass.
Leo noticed.
His expression changed.
“That sentence,” he said, “is why this family became rotten.”
Sofia looked stunned.
Dinner began badly.
It became worse.
One uncle accused Leo of destroying Anthony's legacy.
Another demanded Victor’s legal fees be paid through family funds.
A cousin suggested Mina had seduced Leo into cooperation with authorities.
Leo placed his fork down.
The table became silent.
“What did you say?”
The cousin swallowed.
“I said she's influenced—”
“No.”
Leo's voice remained quiet.
“You used another word.”
Mina touched his arm.
He looked at her.
“Don't.”
“He insulted you.”
“Yes.”
“I dislike that.”
“I noticed.”
She looked around the table.
“I don't need Leo to defend my reputation from people who think falsifying dead patients’ medical debt is a family tradition.”
Several faces reddened.
Thomas coughed to hide a laugh.
Mina continued.
“My mother discovered your fraud while dying from cancer.”
No one spoke.
“She knew it might cost her safety. She did it anyway.”
Sofia looked down.
Mina’s voice softened.
“I am not asking any of you to like me.”
She placed the polished glass in front of Leo.
“But don't blame the person who turns on the light for what you finally see in the room.”
Leo stared at her.
The entire table disappeared for a second.
There was only Mina.
The woman who had locked him outside.
The woman who refused to fear him.
The woman who had become the first person in years whose opinion mattered more than his pride.
After dinner, Leo found her in the pantry.
“You were magnificent.”
“I arranged dessert.”
“Not the dessert.”
“Oh.”
He leaned against the doorway.
Mina kept reorganizing napkins.
“You're avoiding looking at me.”
“I'm working.”
“Mina.”
She turned.
Big mistake.
He was too close.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
“Something changed at St. Agnes,” Leo said.
“What?”
“For me.”
Her breathing slowed.
“Leo.”
“I've spent three days trying to decide whether saying this is selfish.”
“That is a terrible opening.”
“I know.”
She smiled.
He did not.
“I think about you when you're not in the room.”
Her smile faded.
“I know whether you've eaten.”
“Occupational hazard.”
“I know which side of your face you touch when you're worried.”
Mina lowered her hand.
She had been touching her cheek.
Leo almost smiled.
“I know when you're lying about being fine.”
“Everyone lies about being fine.”
“You do it badly.”
She looked away.
Leo continued.
“And when Victor held that gun against you, I would have given him everything.”
“Don't.”
“Everything.”
She looked at him.
“The organization. The money. The house.”
“The house?”
“That part hurts.”
She laughed.
Then became serious.
“You can't confuse fear with love.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Leo moved one step closer.
“Because fear makes me want to control you.”
Mina stayed still.
“And love?”
“It makes me want you to choose.”
Silence.
That was the right answer.
Perhaps the only answer.
Mina closed the distance and kissed him.
Leo froze.
The feared Mafia Don of Chicago actually froze.
Mina pulled back.
“Was that confusing?”
He stared.
“Yes.”
She smiled.
Then he kissed her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
No grabbing.
No ownership.
A question.
She answered.
When they separated, Thomas spoke from somewhere behind the pantry door.
“I have terrible timing.”
Leo closed his eyes.
“Go away.”
“Can't.”
“What?”
Thomas entered holding a tablet.
Helen appeared behind him.
Her expression was grim.
“The federal prosecutors accepted the Marrow evidence.”
“That sounds good,” Mina said.
“It is.”
Helen looked at Leo.
“Except Dante made a deal first.”
Leo’s expression hardened.
“What deal?”
“He claims you authorized everything.”
Silence.
Thomas handed Leo the tablet.
Dante had signed a statement describing Leo Moretti as the architect of Marrow Financial.
Fabricated records.
Fake transfers.
Bribery.
All blamed on Leo.
Mina read the first page.
“This is a lie.”
Helen nodded.
“It may still work.”
“How?”
“Because Leo is the Don.”
The title suddenly sounded different.
Not power.
Evidence.
Leo stared at the screen.
“If they indict me?”
Helen answered.
“You could lose twenty years.”
Mina looked at Leo.
He looked strangely calm.
Too calm.
“What are you thinking?”
“That if they need the Don…”
May you like
His eyes lifted.
“…I stop being one.”
