Chapter 20 Francesco #2
“Adriano documented La Mano Nera’s involvement in catastrophic ‘accidents’ that weren’t accidents at all. He even planted secure safes around the city that would only activate if his anonymous allies discovered Lia had been harmed.”
Marco’s face remains impassive except for that slight shift in his eyes.
“The evidence would be released automatically,” I continue. “A final blow from beyond the grave. And now you want to marry her into the very family that could trigger everything?”
When silence persists, I snap. “Lia is connected to a buried landmine. Marrying her won’t defuse it—it’ll make everything worse. What happens when La Mano Nera discovers who she really is?”
“So what are you suggesting, Francesco?” Marco finally speaks. “Kill her like the Elders wanted?”
“We can’t kill her!” My voice tears through the room. “If she dies, we all go down. Everything gets exposed. Her death would detonate something far worse than her life ever could.”
I study their faces, then focus on Marco. While the others look panicked, he appears calm. Too calm for everything I’ve just revealed.
“How?” I ask quietly. “How are you planning to marry her when the Elders already marked her for death?”
The calm look on Marco’s face tells me everything I need to know.
While I was out desperately trying to save her, trying to find a way to fight back—he was doing the same.
And he got there first.
Olga steps forward, her voice carefully controlled. “Where is this journal now?”
“I gave it to the Elders,” Marco says. “In return, they agreed to one condition—that Lia be spared, and that I be allowed to marry her, since she’s carrying my child. I provided information that changed their perspective entirely.”
Dante’s eyes narrow dangerously. “What information?”
“I told them about the prophecy and convinced them I could use it to their advantage.”
The blood drains from my face. Marco looks directly at me. “While La Mano Nera forbids mixing blood with outsiders, I gave them a reason to spare Lia’s child by binding its fate to the prophecy.”
He pauses, letting the weight of his words settle.
“The prophecy speaks of a child born of unsanctioned blood—one who, upon turning eighteen, will either dismantle the Society from within… or lead it into a new era of dominance.
“I made them see that the answer lies in their own division. Some believe the child will be their downfall. Others believe the child is the key to their future. I argued that killing the child would guarantee the very outcome they fear. But raising it—shaping it—gives them control.
“Why destroy what could be weaponized?
“Why fear the prophecy… when they could own it?”
Dante slumps back, suddenly looking older. “And the Elders accepted that?”
Marco’s voice carries a weight I’ve never heard before.
“I didn’t give them a choice. I laid it out clearly—killing her would trigger Adriano’s dead man’s switch and eliminate the only child connected to the prophecy, the same child that could secure their power for generations.
I didn’t ask them to believe. I gave them a decision: Risk everything…
or control what could one day belong to them. ”
“But why claim the child as yours?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Marco’s expression hardens as he meets my gaze without flinching.
“Because the child is mine, brother.”
He smiles, daring me to contradict him.
“They could only agree if the child was conceived by an outsider and someone uninitiated. If the father were initiated, it would shift the balance of power—threatening the structure the Elders have fought to preserve. It could spark division, disobedience from other families, fractured loyalties—a ripple effect they can’t afford. ”
The implications crash over the room like a wave.
“So you revealed your relationship with Lia,” Dante says slowly, the realization settling in.
“Exactly. They know I haven’t been initiated yet.
The child was conceived before that ever happened.
That’s how they’ll safeguard their authority—by maintaining the illusion of order among those who’ve already been initiated and are expected to obey without question.
They can’t risk allowing anyone to cross the boundaries they’ve sworn to uphold—because if one does, others will follow…
and the entire foundation will begin to crack. ”
Olga nods slowly. “It’s actually quite clever. But what did you promise them in return?”
Marco’s jaw tightens.
“To keep full control over the prophetic child, they need my loyalty. They want me to become one of them—and that can only happen through my initiation. Since the child was conceived before that, it doesn’t violate the structure they’ve sworn to protect.
But to claim the child’s future as their own… they need me bound to them first.”
He pauses, visibly tense for the first time.
“And to earn that… I have to carry out a task.”
“What task?” Dante demands.
“They haven’t specified yet. But I agreed to whatever they require.”
My heart stops. The Elders believe Lia’s child, my child, is Marco’s.
“The journal contained everything,” Marco continues, a hint of pride in his voice.
“Every secret Adriano had uncovered about the Society, the Romanos, the Morettis, and the other founding families. By giving it to them, I eliminated the threat—and positioned myself as their ally.”
My father smiles proudly. “Marco did what needed to be done. That journal could have exposed decades of our operations to the world.”
“You think they won’t find the truth?” Elio asks.
“The truth?” Marco scoffs. “This is the truth. I simply framed it in terms they could accept—and delivered it in the only way they’d listen.”
Dante studies Marco for a long moment. “You’re certain about everything you’ve told them?”
Marco nods without hesitation. “Yes.”
“She’s not just a fling?” Dante’s voice is dangerously even.
“No,” Marco says firmly. “I love her.”
My father taps the armrest once. “Love.” The word sounds foreign in his mouth. “And you claim to be the father of her child?”
“The child won’t be illegitimate if the father is present to claim it,” Marco replies with a slight chuckle, though my father doesn’t crack a smile.
“You want to marry her?”
“I do.”
I almost laugh.
I do.
The same words I’ve been dreading saying to any woman who is not Lia.
My father turns to Olga, who has remained quiet since my revelation. “It may serve us well. We can’t eliminate her anymore, too many people know.”
With a heavy breath, he turns back to Marco. “So be it. You’ll marry her.”
My jaw clenches as Father walks over and places a hand on Marco’s shoulder while looking at me and Elio. “Your brother saved us all. He secured the Society’s trust and protected the Moretti-Romano alliance. The Elders will believe our version of events.”
He addresses Marco directly. “She’ll carry our name, and the past will stay buried where it belongs.”
I bite down on my tongue until I taste blood. I want to scream, to tear the truth from my chest and throw it in their faces. But I can’t. Despite how much I hate it, Marco’s manipulation saved her life. If they discover she’s carrying my child, we’ll face the same fate as Salvo.
A knock at the door interrupts my internal torment. Elio opens it to reveal a young man in a dark suit, one of the Society’s messengers.
“Forgive the intrusion,” the messenger says, bowing slightly. “I have an urgent message for the Romano family.”
He hands Dante an official envelope bearing the Society’s seal. Dante tears it open, his expression shifting from anger to surprise to something resembling relief as he scans the contents.
“What does it say?” Olga asks.
Dante clears his throat and reads aloud:
In silence we rule. In blood we bind. In darkness we thrive.
To the House of Romano,
After careful consideration of the recent revelations brought to our attention by Marco Romano, the Council of Elders has reached the following decision:
The Elders of La Mano Nera acknowledge the legitimacy of Marco Romano’s claim. By unanimous vote, the union between Marco Romano and Rosalia Ricci is hereby sanctioned by La Mano Nera.
The prophetic child shall be born under the protection of the Society and raised in accordance with our ancient traditions. Marco Romano shall complete his initiation and, upon the birth of the child: Assume the role of Keeper of the Black Hand for the next generation.
The unborn child, should it reach the age of eighteen, shall be tested for leadership potential. Until then, it remains under the protection of the future Keeper of the Black Hand—Marco Romano.
The child’s safety and upbringing are now matters of the highest priority. Any threat to the child or its mother will be considered an act of treason against the Society.
This decision is final and not subject to appeal.
—The Elders
The letter bears their multiple seals.
Dante looks up at Marco with a mixture of pride and concern. “Keeper of the Black Hand? That’s… that’s one of the most powerful positions in the Society.”
“I know,” Marco says quietly. “It means I’ll be responsible for protecting and guiding the prophetic child. Training them. Ensuring they fulfill their destiny.”
“And if the child doesn’t live up to the prophecy?” I ask, though I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
Marco’s expression darkens. “Then the Society will consider it a failure of my guidance. And failures… aren’t tolerated.”
Dante stands slowly, walking over to Marco.
“You took an enormous risk,” he says finally. “But you may have saved us all.” He pauses. “I’m proud of you, son. You’ve shown true leadership.”
Marco nods, but I can see the weight of his decision in his eyes. “I just hope I made the right choice.”
“You did,” Olga says firmly. “The Society’s protection is worth any price.”
As they continue discussing the implications, I stand frozen, my mind reeling. Marco has saved Lia’s life, but at what cost? He’s bound himself to the Society in ways that will control not just his future, but the future of my child.
My child, who will now be raised to believe Marco is their father. My child, who will be trained and molded by the very organization I’ve grown to fear and despise.
My child, who will carry the weight of a prophecy that could either save or destroy everything we know.
I want to scream. I want to tell them all the truth. But I know now, more than ever, that my silence is the only thing keeping Lia and our child alive.
So I force myself to smile and nod, playing the part of the supportive brother while my heart breaks with every word.
“Congratulations, Marco,” I manage to say. “You’re going to be a father.”
And a Keeper. And a husband to the woman my heart beats for.
“Thank you, brother,” Marco says as he walks to the door. “I’m going to see my fiancée,” he says. “We have a wedding to plan.”
He opens the door, then glances back at me. “Unless there’s something else you want to say, brother.”
I stare at him. At the smirk on his lips. The arrogance pouring out of him. The mask hiding whatever dark thing he’s agreed to do for the Society.
I can’t punch him. Can’t kill him. Can’t even tell him to go to hell without putting her in danger. So I school my features into an easy smile, dead inside.
“I was just worried, but I’m glad everything worked out, brother.”
Marco holds my gaze for a few more seconds before nodding.
“And I’m glad you’re happy for me.”
Then he’s gone.
When Elio and my father leave, I’m left standing alone in the empty room, my heart bleeding.
She’s not yours, I want to roar. She’s mine.
But all I can do is clench my jaw and stay silent.
Because loving her out loud would kill us both.