Chapter 4

Marco did not let me go on.

"Vera Rossi," he announced coldly, "if you can't produce Rocco himself for verification, the Commission will treat that as a refusal to cooperate and impose a temporary freeze on the Rossi family's holdings."

Lucia could not stop the corner of her mouth from curling up. That was what she had been waiting to hear. Ella raised her bandaged wrist again, her voice unsteady. "I don't want to force anyone's hand. But if he isn't made to pay, more people will get hurt."

She made it sound noble, and several commissioners who had been wavering began nodding again.

Don Ferrini was quiet for a moment, then spoke. "Vera, the rules of this hall don't bend for anyone. Bring Rocco here."

I stayed where I was and did not agree right away. Not out of fear. I had promised Rocco I would keep him out of places like this as much as I could. He hated basements, metal doors, and strangers sizing him up. Every time we passed near the Blood Oath Hall, his ears pricked up, his tail dropped, and he walked with his body pressed to my leg.

But tonight he had to come.

"Fine," I said.

Lucia blinked. "You're agreeing to this?"

"Of course." I looked up at her, my tone so calm it was almost gentle. "Haven't you wanted to meet my son all along?"

Marco frowned. "Where is he now?"

"At home."

"Send someone to bring him."

"Nobody touches him," I said.

The air in the hall went cold. Marco narrowed his eyes. "Vera, you're in no position to set conditions."

"I am." I looked at Don Ferrini at the head of the table. "Identity verification requires the guardian to be present. That's the rule. You said so yourselves."

Don Ferrini was silent for two seconds, then nodded.

I took out my phone and called Nico. "Bring the car to the back door," I said. "Bring Rocco."

The other end of the line went quiet for a beat. Nico clearly understood what that meant. "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

I hung up and sat back down. Lucia stared at me with confusion in her eyes, and a thin thread of panic underneath. She had probably expected me to stall, to plead, to hand over the port charter at the last second. I did none of it. I just waited.

Twenty minutes later, the heavy iron doors of the Blood Oath Hall swung open from outside.

Every head turned at once. Lucia gripped Ella's hand. Marco straightened his tie. Don Ferrini's hand went still on the table.

They all expected a quiet young man of about twenty to walk in, someone who might take the blame for everything on my behalf.

A second later, a black shape crossed the threshold. Its coat gleamed coldly under the lights.

Rocco came in panting. He looked up at me and started wagging his tail.