“But it matters what they do next.”
Frank was quiet for a moment.
Then he sighed. “Your mother would have said that exact thing and made me hate agreeing with her.”
Leah smiled faintly. “I know.”
Roman struck back in November.
Not with bullets.
With truth twisted into poison.
He leaked documents to the press tying Nico to extortion, labor manipulation, offshore accounts, and older unsolved murders. Some were genuine. Some were altered. Some contained just enough truth to make the lies travel farther. The newspapers ran multi-page spreads. Cable pundits raged. Neighborhoods that had quietly accepted Vitali money for years suddenly pretended they had always been horrified.
Sophie saw one of the headlines at breakfast.
MOB KINGPEN FLIPS ON CITY HALL ALLIES
Under it was a photo of Nico escorting her from a church memorial after the shooting.
“Flips?” she asked.
Nico folded the paper before she could read more. “It means people are surprised.”
“Are you a kingpin?”
“No.”
“Are you mob?”
He met his daughter’s gaze across the table.
There are moments when fathers choose between myth and legacy. Nico had lived most of Sophie’s life maintaining one for the sake of the other.
“No more lies,” he said.
Rosa, setting down coffee, froze in place.
Nico continued. “Yes. I built things the wrong way. I hurt people. I told myself it was to protect what was mine. That wasn’t always true.”
Sophie’s face changed. Children can absorb truth faster than adults because they have not spent decades upholstering their illusions.
“Is that why they shot at me?” she asked quietly.
His throat moved once. “Yes.”
The silence that followed was so deep Rosa retreated without a sound.
Finally Sophie said, “Miss Leah said children don’t get the bill for adult sins.”
He closed his eyes briefly.
“She was right.”
