Chapter 49 - THE HEIRS' ENCOUNTER
Before the hunt for Silvio Moretti could begin, there was the matter of young Lorenzo.
The nine-year-old boy had been placed in the estate’s sunny sunroom, surrounded by towering ferns, marble statues, and large glass windows overlooking the courtyard. He sat huddled on an oversized wicker chair, his knees pulled up to his chest, still clutching the heavy silver Falcone ring that hung from his neck.
He was terrified. He expected a dungeon. He expected executioners. He was a mafia child; he knew what happened to rival claimants when a Don consolidated his power.
The glass doors slid open with a soft hiss.
Lorenzo flinched, burying his face into his knees.
A pair of small patent-leather shoes clicked into the room.
*Click. Tap. Click. Tap.*
Lorenzo peeked through his arms.
It was Sophia.
She was carrying a silver tray, which wobbled precariously in her tiny hands. On the tray was a glass of chocolate milk and two enormous, sugar-dusted butter cookies. Behind her, standing just outside the glass doors, Dante and Rosa watched in silence, Dante’s arm wrapped protectively around Rosa’s shoulders.
Sophia marched across the sunroom, her little face red from the effort of balancing the heavy silver tray. She reached the wicker chair, grunted softly with exertion, and dropped the tray onto the low glass coffee table with a loud *clatter*.
Lorenzo stared at the tray, then looked up at the four-year-old.
"What... what is this?" Lorenzo whispered, his voice trembling.
Sophia smoothed her navy blazer. She put her hands behind her back, puffed out her chest, and gave him the sternest glare her round, chubby face could manage.
"Eat," Sophia ordered.
Lorenzo hesitated. "Is... is it poisoned?"
Sophia rolled her eyes—a dramatic, sweeping gesture she had picked up from Dante during endless meetings with paranoid capos. With an exasperated sigh, she reached out, broke off a small piece of one of the cookies, popped it into her own mouth, and chewed it vigorously to prove it was safe.
"Not poison," Sophia said, swallowing. "Chocolate. Eat."
Lorenzo looked at the remaining cookie. Slowly, cautiously, he uncurled from his defensive ball. His stomach let out an audible, embarrassing rumble; he hadn't eaten since the Council dragged him from his boarding school in Switzerland forty-eight hours ago.
He reached out with a shaking hand, picked up the cookie, and took a bite. Tears suddenly welled in the nine-year-old's eyes. He began to eat ravenously, wolfing down the sweet pastry while choking back quiet sobs.
Sophia stood beside the table, watching him with an expression of deep, paternal satisfaction.
When Lorenzo finished the cookie and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, Sophia reached out. Her small, chubby fingers closed around the heavy silver Falcone ring hanging from his neck.
Lorenzo froze, terror instantly returning to his eyes. "You... you want the ring? The arbiter said this makes me the boss."
Sophia tugged the ring gently, looking at the carved falcon crest. Then, she let go of it and pushed it flat against Lorenzo’s chest.
"Keep it," Sophia said, her childish voice ringing with absolute certainty. "You're Lorenzo. Not Boss."
She pointed to her own chest with both thumbs.
"I am Boss," Sophia declared proudly. "You play Nintendo."
Lorenzo stared at her, completely stunned. Then, for the first time in days, a watery, genuine laugh broke through the boy’s tears. "Nintendo? You have a Nintendo?"
Sophia nodded solemnly. She turned toward the glass doors and waved a dismissive hand toward the corridor. "Marco! Bring the games. Now."
Outside the sunroom, Dante pressed his forehead against Rosa’s temple, his chest shaking with silent, overwhelmed laughter.
"She spared his life, stripped his claim, and assigned him video games," Dante whispered into Rosa’s hair. "She’s four years old, Rosa. She’s already a better Don than I ever was."
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Rosa smiled through her tears, wrapping her arms around Dante’s waist. "She gets her mercy from me. But the arrogance... that is purely you, Dante Falcone."
***
