Chapter 44: Incentive

It had been just three days, and the streets had not gone silent.

Although no big moves had been made—except earlier that morning, when Vittorio was found on the outskirts of the city—the streets were still filled with whispers. Small fights had begun to break out as people picked sides. Of course, siding with the Falcones seemed unlikely; they had always been the underdogs. But the streets knew how crazy Vittorio could be, so the Falcones weren't at the very least underestimated.

Business at the port continued. Even with all the chaos, drugs were still being moved out through the docks. Mexicans, Blacks, Italians, and even the Irish gathered in one place to lift their share. With the smell of smoke and blood still lingering in the streets, and the hunt for Vittorio still hot, the day passed more quietly than it had begun.

Evening came at the Genovese manor, Vittorio had just finished having his wounds tended to. His broken leg was wrapped tightly as he sat in a chair, eyes closed, as though meditating on something grave. Maya, his nurse, wrapped the final bandage around his leg.

In truth, he wasn’t thinking about anything.

His mind was blank, empty, as he stared into the darkness casted by his own eyelids. It was his ritual—his rite—when things became too overwhelming.

“That should be it for now. As long as you don’t get yourself into any more trouble.” Maya’s firm voice followed as she straightened and looked at him.

“Hm.” His response came low as he nodded, slowly opening his eyes. He adjusted himself in the chair, a soft groan escaping his mouth.

“Are you sure you don’t want help with the hand? You also have a few broken ribs too. Come home at least—we can give you better care there than here.” She packed her equipment as she spoke.

Vittorio nodded, pulling on his shirt and knotting his tie as he faced the mirror. His eyes were cold, as always.

Some people looked into mirrors and saw versions of themselves they loved or hated. Vittorio saw nothing—just a physical projection, nothing more, nothing less. Maya, on the other hand, saw the hollow in his eyes. The darkness reflecting there could burn fear into anyone’s heart, no matter how hard he tried to contain it.

“You can leave now. The old man should be stable for now.” His voice snapped, making her flinch slightly.

“Oh—yeah. Ahem.” She looked away, avoiding his gaze.

“He’s very stable. Although you should keep him away from all the dangerous stunts you’re performing. He’s too old for it.”

Vittorio nodded, picked up his walking stick, and turned to her.

“Anything you want to tell me?” He had noticed her mannerisms. She had something to say—whether she didn’t know how, or was simply afraid, he couldn’t tell.

Maya bowed her head, staring at the box clenched in her hands. She took a deep breath, summoning courage. “It’s not Benny’s fault. Francesca—you know her. She can be like that.” She rushed the words out before fear could stop her. “I spoke to her the night before. She didn’t pretend to even listen. She already knew what she wanted, and you know what happens when she knows what she wants.”

Silence followed. Vittorio said nothing. Neither did she.

She finally lifted her head. His face also revealed nothing, which somehow made it worse. He stood there, leaning on his stick, then sighed and walked to a chair. He sat, crossed his legs, rested his hands on his knee, and gestured for her to sit. “How are you and Benny? Are you still together?”

“You didn’t seem into the idea at the time, so I don’t get why now.” Her confusion was genuine. The question felt out of place. She sat across from him, placing the box beside her slender leg.

“I’m still not,” he said simply. “But I never complained about you two being together. You’re both adults, with the will to do whatever you want.”

Maya snuffled, smiling—a mix of sincerity and sarcasm as she nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”

Vittorio studied her for a moment, as if psychoanalyzing her. In truth, he was admiring her confidence—one of the many reasons she was the only person he trusted with his health and his family's.

“Well.” He glanced at his watch. “I still have some free time. I’ll indulge your divulgence.”

“You don’t know what free will is, Vittorio. You cannot grasp the concept.” The words came sharper now. “You’re manipulative. You always have been. Your whole life you’ve controlled situations to your own will. The only person who has ever had the freedom to choose has been you. Just You.” Relief followed the release but quickly chased by unease.

“I’m curious where this is coming from,” he said calmly. “Benny? Donatella?”

"You see? Exactly what I'm saying. You see everyone around you as puppets that you can't even imagine them having minds of their own. Have you ever asked yourself why Donny left and Benny hasn't?"

A smile spread across Vittorio’s face as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “Now we’re talking. I’m very curious as to why.”

“This is a waste of time. I have people I need to attend to back home.” She stood, picking up her box. She understood he was baiting her into saying something she didn’t want to say.

“Sit.” His voice sent a chill through the room, freezing her mid-step. She closed her eyes and sighed.

“That is very rude.” his smile had vanished. He was upset now. “I could suggest you spill whatever Benny and Donatella have been saying behind my back…” A pause. “But I won't do that.” He leaned back, head tilted, eyes locked on her. “Why are you and Benny no longer together?”

Maya clenched her jaws and looked at him with hesitant eyes, she then steeled herself. “Benny wasn’t what I was looking for. He’s a good man—charming, likable. But he lacked—”

“Incentive,” Vittorio finished.

Her jaw clenched harder. She hated how right it sounded.

“I’ve known Benny longer than anyone. It’s safe to assume you’re the only person who comes close.” his words came out almost as a whisper.

Maya bit her lip. She had walked straight into it. “What point are you trying to make now?”

“You said it wasn’t his fault. I’m telling you why it is.”

His gaze burned. “Maybe I don’t even need to tell you. Maybe you already know. So stop trying to make yourself feel better by telling me how to run my family.”

“Sir.” The door opened and a young butler stepped in. “Jim has arrived.” He nodded and left.

Vittorio kept his eyes on Maya as he picked up his stick and forced himself to stand.

“You have people to attend to back home right?.” He walked past her.

Maya remained where she was, caught between regret for speaking at all, anger at how he had stripped her bare with words, and the quiet devastation of knowing that everything he had said was true.