Calculated Moves

MARCO’S POV Robert Vitale's office was suffocating with tension. He stood at the head of the table, his face flushed with rage as he gripped the edge of the mahogany surface. The capos seated around him exchanged nervous glances, their eyes carefully averted from him. "He's making a mockery of us," Robert snarled. "My daughter is in his house, and he's-" He paused, his jaw working. "He's announcing a wedding like we're supposed to be grateful for the insult." "Maybe," one of the younger capos ventured, "we could use the marriage as an alliance. It could actually work in our-" Robert's hand moved so fast I barely saw it. His fist connected with the capo's face with a sickening crack, and the man went flying backward, his chair clattering to the floor. Blood spilled from his nose, and he lay there stunned, unable to do anything but stare up at the ceiling in shock. The entire room went silent. Robert wiped his hand on his pants, his expression was as cold as ice. "Does anyone e