19. Jacklyn
19
JACKLYN
T he air in the room is stifling. My throat feels as though it’s filled with a toxic smoke I just can’t expel as I walk down the narrow aisle, as though walking to my execution. Men line either side, looking at me as though I’m a circus curiosity, but I don’t flinch. I don’t flicker; instead, I hold my head up high and approach the Don of dons himself.
I know why I’m here; I know why he’s called this meeting. He doesn’t want to hear from me—he wants to dictate his terms. And the irony is that whatever Seattle decides is the decision I must abide by. We live in our own little murderous bubble here, but ultimately, the final word remains with the head family in Seattle – the Accardis. Run by none other than the man standing before me.
Dante ‘The Saint’ Accardi. There’s absolutely nothing saintly about the man standing stoically at the head of the table. His name alone carries weight in rooms where power is currency and loyalty is a fragile, bloody thread. I’ve studied men like him all my life, but none of them hold a candle to the sheer force of nature that he embodies. To some, he’s the devil incarnate, a man who rose to power by walking over the broken bodies of those who opposed him. To others, he’s a savior—a man who brings order where there is chaos, even if it means ruling with an iron fist. To me? He’s a complication I can’t afford to ignore.
I try to reconcile the man I’m looking at with what I know about him. He wasn’t always the ruthless kingpin who commands armies with a glance. At one time, the man with the soulful eyes and a voice that could soothe the hardest heart used to kneel in prayer, seeking guidance and redemption. He used to be a man of God, serving the church. He was actively saving souls—until the world demanded he save his family instead.
His older brother, Rollo, was meant to carry the burden of their father’s empire. Dante would have been free to pursue his calling, to live a life untouched by the blood and violence that defined the Accardi name. But fate had other plans. When Rollo was gunned down in an ambush, Dante had no choice but to hang up his collar and step into the role he’d never wanted. The priest became the boss, and in doing so, he traded salvation for retribution.
If that were all there was to Dante, he’d be like so many other men in our world. But he’s not. His story took another turn, one that cemented his legend—and his infamy.
Kingsley Murray. She was supposed to be nothing more than a pawn in his game, a tool to exact vengeance against her father. The elder Murray had something the Accardis wanted, and Dante’s response was swift and brutal. He kidnapped Kingsley, intending to use her as leverage. When Kingsley was taken from him in turn—abducted by another faction that sought to exploit the chaos Dante had created—he didn’t abandon her. He didn’t see her as expendable.
He rescued her.
And somewhere in the chaos of betrayal and bloodshed, they fell in love. A love born of fire and steel, forged in the crucible of their shared survival. When they finally emerged from the storm, they weren’t just husband and wife. They were partners. Their marriage wasn’t just a union of hearts but a merger of empires. Together, they created one of the most formidable mafia families the world has ever seen.
With Kingsley at his side, his reach extends farther than any of us can imagine. He doesn’t just control his territory; he owns it, body and soul. His alliances are ironclad, his enemies either annihilated or cowed into submission. And now, with the Vicci family on the verge of imploding, he’s the one man who might be able to stop the chaos from consuming us all.
The question is, what price will he demand?
I’ve seen Dante in action. He’s charming, almost disarmingly so, but beneath that polished exterior lies a predator. He’s a man who calculates every move, every word, every smile. You never truly know where you stand with him, which makes him as dangerous as he is effective. If he decides to intervene in the Vicci crisis, it won’t be out of charity or goodwill. It will be because he sees an opportunity to solidify his power. And he’ll take it without hesitation.
As much as I hate to admit it, we need him. The Vicci family is fracturing, and the chaos threatens to engulf everything we’ve built. Dante Accardi has the resources, the influence, and the sheer force of will to bring order to the madness. But relying on him is a gamble. He’s not a man who gives without taking. And when he comes to collect, I know the price will be steep.
Still, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to him than meets the eye. Beneath the ruthless exterior, beneath the devil’s grin, there’s still a flicker of the boy who once dreamed of saving souls. Maybe that’s why he’s so compelling. Because even now, after everything he’s done, there’s a part of him that believes he can save us all. Or maybe he just wants to prove that he’s the only one who can.
Either way, Dante Accardi is a man you underestimate at your own peril. And as the walls close in around us, I can’t help but wonder: when the time comes, will he be our salvation? Or our undoing?
I stand tall, spine straight, eyes locked forward as I come to a stop in front of him. The air tastes of old cigars, expensive whiskey, and the sharp tang of unspoken animosity. He doesn’t extend his hand to me, so I clasp my hands in front of me and wait before I speak.
His eyes lock onto me the moment I enter the room, and I can feel the weight of his gaze press down on me. He’s flanked by his usual men—tall, broad-shouldered, and silent.
“Jacklyn,” Dante’s voice is smooth, but there is a cold edge to it. “I trust you’re well?”
I give a short nod but don’t speak.
I take my seat as directed and sit to his left, waiting for everyone to take their seats. I catch Lucky Gattis eye across the table, and I don’t miss how he skirts his eyes away quickly, guilt pressed into his features.
Dante’s gaze shifts around the room briefly, his men remaining stoic, their eyes boring into me like they are measuring my very presence. He finally leans forward, his hands clasped together. “You’ve made quite a ruckus lately,” he starts. There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You’ve managed to piss off quite a few of the families.”
I don’t even bother to explain that it wasn’t me who created the chaos, because ultimately, the trouble has come about by men who swore their allegiance to my family. Ultimately, this is my cross to bear – I couldn’t control my own family.
“It’s come to our attention that your position is... unstable. The other families are questioning your leadership, your authority. And the truth is, they’ve been talking about replacing you.”
I lean back in my chair, unfazed as I look at him. The pushback against my reign has been building for months. “I’m aware that the behavior of some of my men has left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lucky shift in his seat, but I don’t break eye contact with Dante Accardi. There’s no escaping the punishment or ruling that he will mete out today.
He smiles, a humorless expression. “Good. I’m glad you understand my dilemma,” Dante says. “I’m sure you realize that your leadership is leading us into all out war. A war that nobody wants.”
I exhale the sign I’d been holding back, before my head drops to my chest in resignation. There’s nothing I can say to dispute this; he’s absolutely right.
My pulse feels thready when I lift my eyes to him. He’s like my own personal fortune teller, predicting doom and gloom. I’m not scared; I’m pissed. I feel like I’m being cornered on all sides and there’s no-where left to run. But I’m not weak. I’m not going to cower to anyone.
“What exactly do you suggest, Don Accardi?” I say, keeping my voice cool, but there’s no denying the underlying defiance in my tone.
He pauses for a moment, studying me, before he drops his bombshell. “I’ve met with the five families. There is, unfortunately, a lot of opposition to your rule.”
“You can change that,” I’m quick to tell him. He holds up a hand, silencing me.
“If I could change that, I would have. Seattle has already extended its protection to you, but it hasn’t stopped the dissension.”
“Where was your protection when my brother was shot?” I stammer. Anger swims through my veins as a fine film of sweat coats my skin. Defiance toward our leader is not in my best interest, but I find I can’t prevent the storm that rages within me.
“That’s a whole other topic, and that is being dealt with,” he says. “Whoever was responsible for the attempt on Jack’s life will be held accountable. But you – you should have come to me when he was shot, Jacklyn. You know we don’t condone violence against one of our own. The Viccis are protected under the Accardi family name, but you decided to go rogue and do things your way.”
“How’s that working out for you?” Lucky pipes up, his voice full of resentment. His brother, sitting beside him, nudges him to shut up. I shoot him a withering look before I return my attention to Dante.
“I may have gone about things the wrong way,” I admit.
“After an attempt on your brother’s life, what made you think you’d be received any better?” Caleph asks, leaning towards me curiously. He looks like he’s genuinely interested in my motivations. Dante’s second in command has been silent up until now. I shake my head helplessly; I don’t know what I was thinking. All I wanted to do was keep my family functioning.
“We’ve made a decision.” This from Dante. “There are too many variables to consider with your leadership, which is slipping day by day.” I listen carefully, knowing that they can’t strip me as head of the Vicci family. They can impose sanctions. They can make things very hard for me. But they can’t strip me of my title, not when there is no other Vicci to lead.
Then it hits me; the worst thing they can do is expel me from the family’s protection. That is the worst thing they could possibly do to me, and that is, without doubt, what could very well bring about my demise. Without the protection of Seattle, I’m on my own, and I’m as good as dead.
I wait patiently for the decision, knowing this could turn everything on its head.
“There is no scenario in which you lead the Vicci family without a strong male presence by your side. And not just anyone. We’ve already chosen a candidate. A man who will ensure your position remains strong, and the family continues to thrive.”
Scar speaks up for the first time. “We’ve considered the options carefully. A marriage with someone who has the strength to lead with you.” I turn to face him, and I know the shock on my face must tell him all he needs to know, because he squints, regarding me carefully, possibly wondering if I’m about to pass out. I can’t believe my ears. My stomach churns at the thought.
“You want me to marry someone that you’ve chosen for me?” My voice rises, disbelief threading through my words. “You think I’ll just bow to your will and marry some man you’ve cherry picked for me like I’m some kind of chess piece you can move around on a board?”
Scar’s eyes narrow, his lips curling into a small, cold smile. “You don’t have a choice, Jacklyn. The families are divided. The men you have around you—your death will be by one of their hands. You need a strong male presence who can assert control. Someone with strength, who knows how to command loyalty.”
“If you don’t agree,” Dante tells me, his voice steady as he delivers his parting blow “you will be expelled.”
The words hit me like a slap to the face. Expulsion. It was like I wasn’t even my father’s daughter, like I wasn’t worth the seat I’d inherited. They wanted to strip away everything I’d worked for, everything I’d fought for, because they didn’t believe a woman could carry the weight of a family this big. And I’d basically proven them right.
“No,” I say sharply. “I’ll choose my own partner.” Marco comes to mind. He’s been hankering after me for years. He’s loyal. He’s a good advisor. We could make this work, I’m sure we could. It’s what he’s always wanted, and at least I know what I’m getting with him.
Dante raises an eyebrow. “And who amongst your men can you trust to fill that role, Jacklyn? When you’re surrounded by traitors and anarchists?”
“You need someone who can actually lead, Jacklyn. Someone who can make the decisions, take charge of the family, and make the hard calls. Someone who can protect you. You can’t do this on your own, Jacklyn, but neither can you do it with someone who wants to control you,” Caleph says, as though he knows instinctively where my mind has wandered off to. As though he is speaking directly about Marco.
I feel a rush of heat in my chest. It’s not because I disagree with them—it’s because they’re right. Maybe on some level, I always knew that. Marco has been there for me, and I know his loyalty runs deep. But leadership? Marco has never shown the cold decisiveness that is required to keep the family running. He is loyal, yes, but loyalty alone won’t protect us from the danger that is eating us from the inside out.
Still, the thought of marrying anyone, of binding myself to someone I don’t love, makes me want to tip the table over out of anger. I’m not going to let them dictate my life. I’m not going to bend to their will.
“I won’t marry someone I don’t love, or someone I don’t respect.” My voice is barely above a whisper, but thick with conviction.
“Everyone out!” Dante bellows, his eyes never leaving mine. They’re so dark, it feels like a sharp point piercing me.
His eyes harden after everyone has left the room and it’s just me and him.
“Jacklyn, I’m giving you a choice. Marry someone who can keep the family intact, or you’ll lose it all. There won’t be a family to lead if you don’t act quickly. The families will make their move, and we’ll be left with nothing but ashes as a reminder that the Vicci family once was and is no longer.”
“You don’t know the sacrifice you’re asking of me.” My voice is bitter.
“We all make sacrifices. We all have . You have to decide whether or not this one sacrifice is worth it to save your family. If you’re as committed to the Vicci name as you would have me believe, you’d do anything to save it. I’m giving you an option – the best option. The one that guarantees your family’s survival.”
The words hang in the air, suffocating and damning. I feel like I’m drowning, like the walls are closing in around me. But I can’t back down now. I can’t let them break me.
I stand up abruptly, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. I feel the bottom dropping out of my world as I look at him. Dante Accardi is as high up the food chain as one can go. Going against his wishes is akin to professional suicide. “I’ll find a way to save my own family,” I whisper, but I know I’m loud enough for him to hear. “And if that means we go to war, then so be it.” My pulse is roaring in my ears now. Adrenaline courses through me, the anger, the fear—it’s all mixing together, swirling like a storm inside me.
Dante leans back, his face impassive. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of this situation, Jacklyn. You can’t fight this alone. And if you don’t make the right choice, you’ll be fighting alone in a war of your own making.”