9. Clara
Chapter 9
Clara
I ’m waiting until the last possible minute to join the council meeting. I know if I log on early, Emily will be there, staring at me with that look, and I can’t handle it right now.
It’s been almost two weeks since Deniz and I left the house outside of Westmoreland, and everything seems to have shifted between us. There’s a new weight to his gaze when we catch each other’s eye across the room, a new heaviness to the silence between us.
He’s at work most days, even though he has a home office, and a Syndicate plant I’ve hired as a receptionist in his building keeps an eye on him throughout the day for me. For obvious reasons, I can’t tap his phones or monitor his computers, so there’s still a chance he could turn on me. But after what he saw, and the way it changed the look in his eyes, I doubt it.
There’s no clock on the walls, but I feel like I can hear the ticking down of the seconds before this meeting begins. To its imaginary rhythm, I remember the shock of my first mission with my parents. I was sixteen, and while Charlie, Bea, and Emily got to wait until they were all of age and complete their first mission/assignment together, I was alone.
The scene was almost completely the same, except we were in a rural area of China. Girls had been forced into factory labor, mostly by their families. We had ensured they were transferred to a local organization that could help them start new lives before we turned to their traffickers, determining which girls’ families were innocent and which were not.
Deniz’s question rings in my ears, painting over the bloodshed of my memories. Judge, jury, executioner . It’s what I was born to be. Passing it off to anyone else, letting them decide the fate of these people, would be cruel. Who would I leave it to? Their victims? A jury of their peers? A criminal justice system that is corrupt and unjust to its roots?
This is my burden to bear, because it would be unethical to allow it to fall to anyone else. My brother and cousins, and the members of The Syndicate beyond, may carry out countless missions, but it’s my word they follow. Every life taken and lost, both villains and victims, is like a grain of sand dropped into my lungs. Over the years, I have trained myself to breathe through the particles that scrape my insides raw.
Pain. That’s my birthright.
The clock strikes eight in the morning, and I clear my throat and my mind as I click into the meeting. I’m the last to arrive, but no one seems to notice my tardiness, already engrossed in conversation.
“It’s hitting the rumor mill among mid-level dealers,” Bea says quietly, her eyes flicking to the corner of the screen. I know she’s watching her mother’s reaction to her words, as she always does on the rare occasions she speaks during meetings. “It seems most people are surprised he wasn’t killed earlier.”
Emily’s smile is vicious as she takes a dramatic bow, and I watch her mother and both her aunts repress a smile.
“Thank you, I believe it’s some of my best work,” she sings, laughter tracing her tone. Gwen and Charlie, together in the frame, glance at each other.
“We’re in your debt, Emily,” Gwen says, blowing her a kiss through the screen.
“Ben deserved whatever you gave him and more,” she replies, winking back at her.
I finally put the pieces together. Charlie has been requesting permission to kill Ben, Gwen’s little sister’s biological father, for months now. While I was initially hesitant to authorize a murder that could be so easily linked to The Syndicate, especially of someone who wasn’t involved in particularly nefarious activities, Charlie promised to create an impenetrable backstory. So I approved, if only to get him to stop fucking asking.
“We hope Morgana doesn’t have any conflicting feelings about her father’s death,” my mother offers politely, smiling at Gwen. Charlie and his fiancé…wife…whatever, glance at each other once again, slight hesitation in their eyes.
“She ah—” Charlie stumbles, looking at Gwen for confirmation, who shrugs her shoulders. “She expressed disappointment that she couldn’t do it herself.”
That piques my interest. Ana’s not yet sixteen years old, but through her sister’s marriage to Charlie, she’s eligible to become a full-fledged member of The Syndicate when she comes of age. Gwen has made it clear that I’m not to go anywhere near her until she and Charlie have talked it over and decided if and how they’ll offer the opportunity. But I’ve been hoping they’ll give a little. It would be an easy solution to the second part of the less than desirable duties of my matriarchy—raising an heir.
There’s no requirement for me to be the biological parent of the next Syndicate patriarch or matriarch, despite that being the path my ancestors had historically taken. I’m hesitant to adopt a child and bring them into this violent world, but Ana? She’s already on our radar, and would have the support of every one of the current council to make up for her lack of training. And as an added bonus, I wouldn’t have to raise a child, a prospect I’ve been dreading far more than marriage.
Charlie catches my eye through the screen and gives a short but severe shake of his head as my father chats with Gwen about Ana’s recent scans—all clear, no evidence of cancer. But Charlie doesn’t scare me—never has, and especially won’t now that I know he can be swayed so easily by his partner.
I pocket the information, turning my attention to Gia’s updates on new recruits for European airport security and port authority employees. When it comes to my turn on the roundtable, I provide short updates about the operation I took Deniz on. It’s of smaller consequence in comparison to a lot of the work I oversee, but every person saved is a win for my mother. If we have them, she requests their names so she can pray for them. I don’t know how, after all this time, she is still religious. Maybe prayer means something different to her—she’s never explained. But still, I send all the names I can, every time.
The meeting is relatively uneventful, until my mother calls for any additional items at the end, and I take myself off mute.
“I have a final item,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “I would like to place forth, for consideration by the council, my choice of spouse.”
The meeting is dead silent. Emily’s expression is guarded, but everyone else’s eyes are wide with shock. And why wouldn’t they be, seeing as no more than four months ago I was causing quite a scene at a family dinner over the subject?
“Present your selection, Clara,” my mother says calmly, watching me closely.
I drop a folder in the chat and begin my rehearsed speech as everyone navigates to the paperwork. Luckily for me, I don’t have to lie outright. Deniz and I met at a bar, a chance encounter that would end in a mutually beneficial agreement. To Emily’s credit, she doesn’t even flinch at the omission. And thank goodness for that, because like any mother, mine can smell a lie across the ocean.
I review ?imsek Security Services and the ways their addition to our operations would provide a more seamless integration of digital security operations to our missions. No more relying on financially based contracts. I present background information on his family, for generations past, some gathered by Emily and some by me. I field questions from the three sisters, while my father, uncle, brother, and cousins stay silent.
“And you wouldn't prefer to wait to fall in love?” Alessia asks. She grips Mauricio’s hand on the table in front of them, and something inside me knows I’ve failed her. My parents, too. Every partnered person at this table found some kind of love, even if the process was long and complicated. Despite the fact that my aunt asked the question, I look at my mother to answer.
“There are many ways people can love each other. And while there are…” I stop myself from saying no romantic feelings , unable to lie completely. “While the nature of Deniz and my relationship is business-oriented, I respect him. He has proven himself, not only on his first mission with The Syndicate, but also in his personal ventures. And while I appreciate and admire the romantic love you and Papa share, I am content with my decision.”
It’s the most honest and vulnerable I’ve been since this meeting began. My heart pinches, knowing I forced Deniz’s hand to get here. But maybe the faith in our future I spoke of isn’t merely hope. Maybe we can work toward a true partnership.
“Council members will voice their vote, from youngest to eldest,” my mother says, and her eyes flicker to the corner of her screen. “Congratulations on your first vote, Gwen.”
A nervous smile flickers over Gwen’s lips as she smiles, and I watch Charlie’s fingers tighten on her arm. All eyes shift to Emily, the youngest among us.
“I, Emily Costa, vote in favor of the union,” Emily says with a glare I can feel through the screen. I swallow harshly, knowing what this vote cost her. This was her last opportunity to come clean about her role in Deniz’s blackmail. If it’s ever discovered that I extorted him and she assisted, the punishment will come down as heavily on her as it does me.
“I, Guinevere…” Gwen stumbles, and I think this might be the first time she’s used the family name among us. “Guinevere Costa, vote in favor of the union.” The corners of her eyes crinkle kindly as she finds me on the screen.
“I, Beatrice Costa, vote in favor of the union,” Beatrice says quietly, wincing as her mother narrows her eyes. I swallow hard, wondering if Gia will be my one hold out. The vote must be unanimous to pass, and not one council member has voted against a union in generations.
“I, Carlo Costa, vote in favor of the union.” My brother’s approval has a soothing effect on my nerves. He is the other half of my mind, as different as we may be, and it’s comforting to know, however irritated he is that I didn’t tell him about Deniz in advance, he still has my back.
“I, Clara Costa, vote in favor of the union.” It’s odd to endorse my own proposal, but the rule is that every council member must vote, no matter how nonsensical it may seem.
“I, Alessia Costa, vote in favor of the union.”
“I, Mauricio Costa, vote in favor of the union.”
Gia’s quiet, her lips pursed. The time for questions has come and gone, and she must make the decision based on her current knowledge.
Gia’s always read people better than most. She passed the trait down to Bea. Despite the fact that Gia is the loudest and more gregarious of the three sisters, she’s also the most observant, and I wonder if she saw something in me that no other Costa could: the ghost of the truth between my words.
“I, Gianna Costa, vote in favor of the union.”
I try not to make the heavy exhale obvious. My father, being merely two weeks younger than my mother, leans forward next.
“I, Aurelio Costa, vote in favor of the union.” He smiles at me, and I think he is genuinely happy I found someone. My parents had a marriage arranged by my maternal grandparents, and yet they are more unshakably in love than any two people I’ve ever met. Perhaps he hopes I can find something similar with Deniz. It pains me to think how impossible that is.
My mother clears her throat, the scarf around her neck shifting so her scarring peeks through. She is unbelievably strong. I watched her claw her way back to life with a fierceness few people can fathom. Every choice I make is to emulate her, to follow in the footsteps she’s laid out for me.
“I, Lucia Costa, vote in favor of the union.”
Tears, grateful and guilty, prick at the corner of my eyes as my mother goes through the standard process, only deviating to request that I hold my wedding until after Charlie and Gwen’s, as the planning has already begun. It’s an easy concession, one I predicted she would ask for. When I look at my brother, such undiluted gratitude is etched into his features.
He knows it was a sacrifice to even get married, and that I’ll continue to forfeit my desires to provide The Syndicate with an heir. But with the approval of my marriage, he can be certain he’ll never have to take on the mantle of Patriarch, a position he never wanted or planned for.
Everything I’ve ever worked for is within reach. And despite the shame eating at my ability to celebrate, I know this decision will be worth it. The ends will justify the means, as they always do. As they must.