It wasn’t my place to tell him about Effie. I’d let Dominic do that when he was ready. Strange. I realized just then how difficult these last five years must have been for my brother. He’d abandoned his child and a woman he’d at one point cared about all out of fear of my father’s disapproval, his wrath. He’d wanted his acceptance, his approval, as much as I had. Maybe he still did. He was as much a puppet to my domineering father as I was.

Roman cleared his throat.

“Why do I get the feeling you two know more than you’re letting on?” my father asked.

“Let me make a call. I think I may know where he is,” Roman said, standing.

“It’s important he’s here,” I said. “Critical, actually.”

He nodded and made the call. My father and I waited in awkward silence until Roman returned. Rainey knocked and entered with a tray holding a bottle of whiskey and several glasses. I poured for everyone and sent her to bed. She’d need to be up early to greet the remainder of our guests. It was only a few hours before they got here.

“I know who was behind things.”

My father drank his glass of whiskey then pulled the bottle over to pour a second.

“Isabella DeMarco and Dominic have been working together with Pagani’s son, Paul Jr. Luke was just the front man, acting on her behalf.”

“I knew that fucking bitch would be trouble. Only good DeMarco is a dead DeMarco,” my father said.

“That’s enough,” I said more calmly than I expected I could. “I called this meeting to put an end to this stupidity. This feud that’s torn your own family apart. When will it be enough for you?”

“When I’m dead.”

“Don’t push me.”

“Gentlemen, we’re on the same side,” Roman said, standing between us with a hand on both our shoulders. “I’m having someone pick Dominic up and bring him here.”

“Where is he?” I asked.

“He has a bar he likes to go to.”

Roman didn’t expound on that, and I left it alone.

“He’s got some explaining to do, that fucking bastard,” Franco said. “Cancel the meeting. I’ll deal with my son myself. You deal with the DeMarco cunt, and Pagani will deal with his son.” He rose to his feet. “I’m fucking tired. You called me here for this bullshit?”

“Sit down,” I spoke quietly, not rising but remaining where I sat, feeling more in control than I ever had in my life. I knew what I wanted, what I needed to do. It would all truly end tonight.

“Be careful, son,” he said, but he lowered himself back down into his chair.

“We’re dealing with this publicly. We’re forgiving what’s happened thus far and calling a truce.”