Chapter 51: Blood on the Throne

IZZY'S POV

Across the table, Councilman Vance cleared his throat. He was older, calmer, one of the few who didn’t look like he was itching to fight me. “Let’s not waste time. Izzy’s here. She’s in the chair. The question is whether we accept it or not.”

“Not,” Marco said flatly. “I don’t take orders from a girl with no record, no scars, no dirt under her nails.”

“Then don’t,” I shot back. “But don’t expect protection, either. You think the Romanos will spare you because you laughed at me? They’ll cut you down just the same.”

His smirk faded a little, but he didn’t back down. “Your father ruled with fear. You don’t scare me.”

“Good,” I said. “I’m not here to scare you. I’m here to make sure you do what you’re supposed to do. Pay on time, keep the peace. No side deals. No betrayal.”

Carmine leaned forward. “And if we don’t?”

I met his eyes. “Then you’ll wish my father was the one you were dealing with.”

A few of them shifted uncomfortably.

Janet was standing by the wall, arms crossed. She didn’t say anything, but I could feel her eyes on me, steady, like a reminder not to lose my temper.

Marco tapped the table with his finger. “You talk tough but when the money doesn’t add up, when the cops come knocking, when someone pulls a gun on you, what then? You’ll cry for your daddy?”

Laughter again, low and mean.

I leaned forward. “Try me. Push me and see what happens.”

The room went quiet again.

Vance spoke up, his tone measured. “Izzy, if you want to sit in that chair, you need more than words. You need loyalty and respect. You won’t get it by shouting.”

“I’ll get it however I can,” I said.

Marco snorted. “Respect isn’t given, it’s earned.”

“Then I’ll earn it,” I said sharply. “But while I do, you’ll still treat me as the one sitting in this chair. That’s not a request.”

Carmine shook his head. “You sound just like him.”

“Good,” I said. “Because I’m his daughter and this house doesn’t fall while I’m breathing.”

There was another stretch of silence. The kind that felt like the whole room was measuring me, deciding whether I was worth listening to.

Finally, one of the quieter underbosses, Enzo, spoke. He was usually neutral, never picking sides. “If she wants the chair, let her have it. The money’s still coming in, isn’t it? That’s all that matters.”

Marco turned on him. “You’d really bow your head to her?”

Enzo shrugged. “Better her than chaos. Romanos are already testing us. We can’t be fighting each other too.”

Vance nodded slowly. “He’s right. We can’t afford division.”

Marco sneered. “Division is already here.” He looked back at me. “You think sitting there makes you boss? It doesn’t. It makes you a target.”

I stared at him. “Then I’ll be a target but I won’t be a coward.”

For the first time, Marco didn’t have a comeback. He just looked at me, his jaw tight, his eyes cold.

I leaned back in the chair, steadying my voice. “This is how it’s going to be. My father can’t lead right now. I can. You don’t have to like it, but you will respect it.”

Carmine muttered something under his breath, but nobody laughed this time.

Vance pushed back his chair. “Alright. She’s spoken, we’ll see if she can hold it.”

One by one, the others stood. Some nodded stiffly, some didn’t look at me at all. Marco was the last to rise. He didn’t bow, didn’t nod, just stared at me before turning and walking out.

When the room was finally empty, I let out a long breath. My hands were shaking under the table.

Janet walked over. “You didn’t crumble,” she said quietly.

“Barely,” I muttered.

“But you didn’t,” she said. Then, after a pause, “Now you just have to prove you belong there.”

I looked at the empty doorway where the underbosses had gone. My voice was low, but certain. “I will.”

The next night, the underbosses came back. They didn’t look any happier than before. Some of them looked annoyed, some looked bored, and Marco looked like he wanted to set the whole room on fire.

I was already in the chair when they walked in. I made sure of it. I didn’t want them to see me sit down, like I was asking for permission.

“Sit,” I said when they hesitated at the table.

They sat. Some slouched, some leaned back, but they sat.

I looked around the table, one face at a time. “We’re not here to argue today. We’re here to settle something. From this night forward, you answer to me. Not to anyone outside this family, me.”

Carmine gave a low laugh. “And if we don’t?”

“Then you won’t be sitting at this table again,” I said flatly.

Marco leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Big words but talk is cheap. How do we know you won’t fold the second things get hard?”

“You don’t,” I said. “That’s why I’m not asking. I’m demanding.”

He smirked. “Cute.”

I ignored him and turned to the others. “We’ll make this simple. Each one of you will swear loyalty tonight, out loud. In front of the rest and if you can’t, you walk out that door and don’t come back.”

A heavy silence filled the room.

Enzo spoke first. “You want a public oath?”

“Yes.” I said

He nodded slowly. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Marco’s head whipped toward him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” Enzo said calmly. He turned back to me. “Izzy, I’ll stand with you. My crew will too, as long as the money flows and the streets stay quiet, I’ve got no problem answering you.”

I gave him a short nod. “Good. That’s all I ask.”

Then I looked to the next man. Salvatore. He was sweating already. “Say it,” I told him.

He cleared his throat. “I… I’ll stand with you.”

“Louder,” I said.

He swallowed. “I’ll stand with you.”

I leaned back. “Good. Next.”

One by one, I went around the table. Some said it quick.

some dragged their feet, but they all said it.

Until Marco.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Not a chance.”