Breaking My Bodyguard novel · Chapter 22 of 24

Chapter 22: The Vote

The vote began at noon on Thursday, in the same room, in the same chairs.

By custom, the Table sleeps under the Don's roof the night of a vote and swears the new Don in at sunrise.

Twelve suitcases sat in the front hall.

The old capo with the gray mustache stood up before anyone else could.

"I stand for the chair," he said.

Nobody looked surprised.

"I was Carmine's friend for thirty years.

"I'll keep the peace with the Brandolinis, and I'll keep this family in the hands of men who've earned it."

He sat down to a scatter of nods.

I sat in my father's chair with the cane hooked beside me.

Rafe sat at my left hand, where I'd put him the day before, with his back stiff as a board.

My hands were cold.

"Each man speaks once," the old capo said. "We begin with the youngest."

The youngest was a lean man in a blue tie who ran the docks.

He opened his mouth.

The dining room door opened instead.

Marisa's driver walked in, big and quiet in his dark overcoat.

Beside him walked a thin gray man in a rumpled suit, who looked as though he hadn't slept since Friday.

I had known him since I was twelve.

He had carried my groceries up the stairs.

"This is the house manager," I said. "He served my father eleven years."

The man's lip shook.

"Tell them," Marisa's driver said.

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