Page 34 of Lucky
“Both with the benefit of a man by their side,” he snaps back. He’s right, even though I don’t doubt these women’s capabilities on their own. They were both born into this life, and they’re both formidable.
“She’s protected by her family name.” I look around the table. “Which reminds me, if I find out anyone at this table had anything to do with Jack Vicci’s shooting, there’ll be hell to pay.”
Victor resumes his argument without stopping to consider the threat that infiltrates the room. “We promised we’d protect her family. But she’s not leading anything but a sinking ship. All the families are circling. You must know that.”
My face doesn’t betray anything, even as the muscles in my jaw contract. The tension in the room spikes as Victor pauses, clearly waiting for a response.
“Sounds like you’re scared of her, Moreno,” Rudy Cavallo speaks up. This from a man whose trade deal with Vicci went south quickly. The fact that he’s defending her speaks volumes to his character. “Jacklyn Vicci’s got more grit than half the men in this room. They’re trying to displace her because they’re intimidated by her.”
“Really?” Victor splutters. “That’s all you’ve got – that we’re scared of a little girl?”
Rudy scoffs. “There’s nothing to say a woman can’t hold her own. You forget that I have three sisters. I’d like to think if they ever had to step up, they wouldn’t be as badly received as Jacklyn Vicci has been.”
“Her men hijacked your run!” he argues, bewildered that Rudy is defending her. I can see he’s running out of arguments. It’s quite amusing to watch.
“Shedidn’t do anything, the men trying to get her displaced did!”
I hold up a hand to quiet the noise as each man starts to talk above the other.
“Don Donelli?” I ask for his input.
“Jacklyn Vicci’s leadership may be unconventional, but I believe she’s capable. The question is whether the families can afford to look beyond tradition.”
I turn to Don Marone.
“Tradition holds us together, but it can also strangle progress. The Viccis need stability, something Jacklyn is determined to accomplish. We cannot undermine that.”
“Then we vote on it,” I tell them, when I realize the men are divided on who should run the Vicci family.
For the sake of fairness, I always remain impartial in these matters, abstaining from casting a vote. My role is to guide the discussion and, when necessary, offer a recommendation—but the final decision must rest with the family heads.
As the votes are cast, the result is no surprise. Moreno and Donelli vote against Jacklyn Vicci, citing tradition and stability as their rationale. On the other side, Marone and Cavallo cast their votes in her favor, arguing that her bloodline alone should be enough to prove she’s worthy of leading her family. The room falls into a heavy silence, split evenly down the middle.
I turn to Scar, who has remained quiet throughout the deliberations. His posture is calm, his expression unreadable, but I can see the wheels turning in his mind. All eyes are on him now, the weight of the decision resting squarely on his shoulders.
Fixing him with a steady, unyielding gaze, I speak with deliberate clarity. “Your vote will be the decider.”
All eyes turn to him as he sits back in his chair, arms crossed as the room falls silent, the weight of his decision pressing downon all those present. Scar’s voice, when it comes, is steady and firm. “She’s earned her place, and I won’t let this council take that from her. The Gatti vote is clear; we stand with her.”
The tension breaks like a snapped wire. Victor Moreno’s jaw tightens, but he says nothing.
I don’t tell them I’ll be imposing conditions on her leadership. I’m under no illusion that the families will honor the protection order, even though it’s in their best interests to do so. Moreno, for sure, has gotten too greedy for our tastes recently, and we know it’s only a matter of time before he falls on his own sword. What he doesn’t know is that we’ve already put measures in place to expel him should he step out of line again.
Rudy Cavallo lets out a low whistle, shaking his head with a grin. Pietro Marone nods his assent, while Maxim Donelli’s lips, despite voting against her, curve into a faint smile.
“Then it’s settled,” I tell them, my voice carrying a note of finality. “Jacklyn Vicci is protected by this family.”
18
LUCKY
The weight of the vote hangs in the air long after the meeting has ended. I sit in the corner of the room, arms crossed, watching as the council slowly disperses. The decision has been made—Jacklyn Vicci would remain at the helm of her family—but every man that was in this room knows very well that a vote doesn’t end the danger posed to Jacklyn Vicci, regardless of what Dante “The Saint” Accardi decrees.
Scar stands at Dante’s side, his jaw tight, his eyes scanning the room like a hawk. He doesn’t speak, not yet, but I can tell something is brewing in his mind. Dante, meanwhile, has the look of a man who’s already moved three steps ahead of the game. I should’ve known then that I was next in his crosshairs.
“Lucky,” Dante says, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. He gestures for me to follow him into the adjacent room.
I don’t like the sense of foreboding that tickles at my senses, but I get up and follow him, with Scar’s heavy yet silent presence trailing behind. The three of us step into Scar’s office, a stark, meticulously organized space where every item has its place. Dante closes the door, turns to face me, and crosses his arms.