Chapter 1

It was raining the day my wife drove our son to his making ceremony, the sit-down where the Falcone line would finally anoint its heir before the assembled Capos.

Midway through the drive, she suddenly turned the car around and rushed to the doctor's, leaving our son behind in the downpour.

She was pregnant. With her enforcer's child.

My son couldn't find a car. He ran in the rain, desperate not to be late, not to shame the Family on the one night that was meant to be his.

He never made it.

A car struck him on the road.

By the time the call reached me and I got to the hospital, he was already gone.

As I stood there, stunned, choking on my grief, my wife—Regina Falcone—called me.

"Darling, I'm pregnant," she said cheerfully. "It's Rocco Giordano's."

"I drank too much that night on the trip. But this child is still mine… I have to keep it."

"You've always wanted a daughter, right? If it's a girl, you can raise her."

She continued, "Rocco's thrilled. It's his first time becoming a father. He wants to be there through it all. I'll be staying with him for a while."

"But don't worry, I'll make it up to you and our son when I get back."

I wiped away my tears, steadied my voice and answered, "Mm."

After my son's funeral, I drafted the papers to dissolve the marriage alliance and made a phone call.

"You've always wanted to bring down the Falcone line," I said. "I won't stop you anymore."

——

The voice on the other end chuckled, doubtful.

"Signor Castellano, you're the silent throne of New York, the name that sits above the four Families. Don't joke. You've kept the Falcones under your protection for twenty years, under Omertà, and no one dared touch them. Why would you suddenly let go?"

"I'm cutting the alliance."

A pause. Then a stunned, eager response.

"You're serious?"

"Back then, every heiress in every ruling Family was dying to be bound to you, and you snubbed them all just to marry into the third-rate Falcone blood. You even made Regina the most feared woman in the province. And now you're just… letting her go?"

I didn't explain. I only said, "Don't ask why. From now on, the Falcone Family stands alone."

The voice laughed in satisfaction.

"I've waited years to hear that. Regina always thought she was untouchable. If not for your protection, I'd have crushed her long ago."

"Since you're withdrawing, I'll prepare a nice surprise for her at tomorrow's thirtieth-year celebration sit-down."

I had just set the phone down when Regina returned.

She hadn't been home in three days.

She came through the door and went straight to our son's room. Finding it empty, she turned to me.

"Why isn't my son home?" she asked sharply.

"It's fine for him to relax after the ceremony, but staying out this late? My son shouldn't be so wild."

My gaze lingered on the strawberry mark on her neck.

"Do you even remember you have a son?" I said coldly.

She frowned, ready to lash out, but caught herself. Her tone softened.

"He's still upset about me leaving him that day, isn't he?"

"When he gets home, I'll talk to him. He always listens to me. He won't blame me."

Yes. Her son always listened.

Because he knew how much she cared about his standing, he stayed up late every night, poring over his books by lamplight in a house that smelled of gun oil and old wine.

He was always the best of them.

Just the night before the ceremony, he told me with pride, his thumb worrying the beads of his grandmother's rosary in his pocket, that he'd earn a life beyond the blood, a real education, something clean, to make his mother proud.

And yet, it was his beloved mother who left him behind on the most important day of his life.

She caused his death.

I couldn't begin to imagine the pain he must've felt when she put him out of the car into the rain that morning.

Fighting back tears, I said hoarsely, "You won't be able to wait for him anymore."

Her face darkened. "You're his father. Don't make a scene like him."

Then, as if granting me a favor, she smoothed the front of her dress with both palms and tossed a delicate gift box into my hands.

"Rocco's a first-time father. He's really clingy right now and can't stand to be apart from me."