Chapter 22: No Paper

"Before I answer," Dominic said, "I need something from my wife."

The old capo waved a hand.

Dominic came back down the room to where I stood.

He reached inside his jacket and took out a folded leather folder.

It was stamped FERRANTE in gold letters, worn at the corners.

He had carried it against his chest since the wedding.

"You never asked where it was," he said, low.

"I thought you'd burned it."

"I thought about it."

He put it in my hands.

The whole room watched him do it.

My father, at the back, had stopped pretending not to listen.

"Clause one is two years," Dominic said. "Clause two is the union vote. Clause three says nobody makes anybody share a bed."

"I remember clause three."

"You ignored it the first night."

Somebody at the table coughed into a napkin.

My face went hot, and I did not look away from him.

"The old rule says a Don must be married to a woman this table respects," the old capo said.

He nodded at me.

"With a Keane behind her. By your contract, Mrs. Ferrante, you are that woman. You would sit at his right as Donna."

"By my contract."

"Yes."

I looked down at the folder.

I thought of the pen in my hand that first night.

I had signed without hesitating, to get away from a man.

I had not signed it for a chair.

"No," I said.

The old capo raised his eyebrows.

"I won't be Donna by paper," I said. "I won't sit at this table because a clause says I have to."

I opened the folder and took out the three pages.

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