Chapter 7 - A Father’s Promise
Victor chose the baptism.
Of course he did.
Dominic had planned a small private ceremony for Matteo at an old church on the South Side. Only a few trusted people were invited: Bianca, two longtime family friends, Dominic’s closest guards, and me.
I had not expected to be invited.
“Why me?” I asked.
Dominic adjusted Matteo’s tiny white blanket.
“Because he calms down when you hold him.”
“That is not a normal reason to invite a waitress to a baptism.”
“You’re not just a waitress.”
The words stayed with me all morning.
The church was quiet, sunlight shining through stained glass onto worn wooden pews. For the first time in weeks, Matteo seemed peaceful.
Then the power went out.
The church plunged into darkness.
Everyone moved at once.
“Secure the exits!”
“Check the windows!”
Dominic pulled Matteo against his chest.
I heard a door slam somewhere behind the altar.
Then Bianca screamed.
A man had grabbed her.
Victor stepped from the shadows, holding a gun to her side.
He looked exactly like Dominic.
But where Dominic’s face carried restraint, Victor’s carried hunger.
“Hello, brother.”
Dominic went still.
“Let her go.”
Victor laughed. “You always did love giving orders.”
“This ends now.”
“No,” Victor said. “It ended ten years ago when you chose Father over me.”
“You tried to murder him.”
“He was weak.”
“And you are worse.”
Victor’s gaze shifted to Matteo.
“That child should have been mine.”
Dominic’s face changed.
I understood then.
This was not about business.
It was about blood. Envy. A man who believed love, power, and family were things that could be stolen.
Victor pushed Bianca forward.
Gunfire exploded outside.
Dominic’s men rushed in through the side door.
In the confusion, Victor fired.
Dominic turned, shielding Matteo.
The bullet struck him in the shoulder.
I screamed.
Victor ran.
But he did not get far.
Bianca grabbed a fallen candle stand and swung it into his legs. He crashed to the floor. Dominic’s guards surrounded him within seconds.
Victor looked up at his brother.
“Kill me,” he said.
Dominic stood bleeding, holding his son with one arm.
For a long moment, his hand moved toward the gun at his side.
Then he looked at Matteo.
At me.
At Bianca.
“No,” Dominic said.
Victor’s smile faded.
“You don’t get an easy ending.”
Police sirens grew louder outside.
“You get to live with what you became.”
Victor was taken away in handcuffs.
Dominic nearly collapsed afterward.
At the hospital, after the bullet was removed and the doctors assured us he would recover, I sat beside his bed.
“You could have killed him,” I said.
“I wanted to.”
“But you didn’t.”
Dominic looked at Matteo asleep in the bassinet nearby.
“I want my son to inherit more than violence.”
His eyes met mine.
“I want him to know that his father chose him over hate.”
I reached for Dominic’s hand.
May you like
And this time, he held mine.
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