Chapter 18: Under My Name

Vincent's POV

Carmine's hand sat on my wife's shoulder, and the gold pen lay across the paper in front of her.

I had told her I would not speak unless the Table asked.

I had meant it when I said it.

The old boss from Red Hook was looking at the compact and not at me, and I knew what that meant.

He was weighing a Strozzi heir against a Strozzi boss.

The boss who owed Carmine money was already nodding along with his version.

Antonia picked up the pen.

She turned it over in her fingers and studied the nib.

I could not read her.

Last night I had knelt on the tile with her hand in my hair, and I had said all of it.

This morning she had walked into the club without looking at me once.

For two years I had been afraid of exactly one thing.

I looked at the pen, the paper and the blue backing, and I knew what I would do if she signed.

I would say nothing.

I would let the Table put me out, and I would stand in the street and watch her get into Carmine's car again.

That was what I had agreed to on Monday.

I had no right to ask for anything else.

But I had one thing I could still give her, and it was not a plan.

I stood up.

The old boss turned his head. "You were not called, Vincent."

"I ask the Table for the floor."

"Granted," he said, with a look at Carmine. "Briefly."

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