Chapter 22: Nobody's Ward

"The code has two halves," the oldest capo said again, "and a son who touches the Don's ward forfeits his seat and his name."

Wynne still held Massimo's good hand.

She felt it go tight around hers.

"But that half was written for a Don who keeps his word," the widow said. "Not one who sets the trap."

She did not raise her voice.

"We have talked, Massimo. All five of us. The table sets that half aside."

"For this once?" Massimo said.

"For good. The next Don does not get to put a girl in his house and call her his ward."

Murmurs went along the pews.

"The next Don," Massimo said carefully.

"We have no one else," said the oldest capo.

"And we would rather have a son who broke a hand for her than a father who ordered her broken."

He stepped aside, and the four others stepped aside with him.

Behind them, on the altar step, the priest stood waiting with a prayer book and an expression of great patience.

Nobody laughed.

Massimo drew a long breath.

"I'll take it," he said. "With one rule."

"Name it."

"No one in this family is ever a ward again."

His voice carried down the stone nave.

"Not a girl, not a widow, not a cousin's wife. Nobody lives in our house because someone else decided where she sleeps."

The capos looked at one another.

"That's a large rule," the oldest said.

"It's the only one I'll make."

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