Chapter 53 The Reckoning 2
The hours crawled by after that. Cedric tried to read, tried to study, tried to do anything to keep his mind busy. But all he could think about was the meeting. About walking into that warehouse. About Dante and his army and the very real chance that tonight would end in blood.
At six, Mrs. Kozlov appeared with dinner. Neither of them had asked for it, but she brought it anyway...soup and bread, simple and warm.
"You need to eat," she said firmly. "Both of you."
"Mrs. Kozlov..." Falcone started.
"No arguments." Her voice softened. "Please. Let me take care of you one more time."
They ate in Falcone's office, the soup warming them from the inside even though fear made everything taste like nothing. Mrs. Kozlov stood by the door, watching them with eyes that held too much understanding.
"Mrs. Kozlov?" Cedric said suddenly.
"Yes, Mr. Santos?"
"If something happens tonight...if we don't come back..."
"Don't." Her voice was sharp. "Don't you dare finish that sentence. You're both coming back. You have to."
"But if we don't," Cedric continued gently, his voice cracking, "I need you to tell my mother something. Tell her I love her. Tell her I'm sorry for all the worry I caused. And tell her..." His voice broke. "Tell her I died fighting for something that mattered. That I wasn't a victim. That I chose this."
"You'll tell her yourself." Mrs. Kozlov's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "When you come home. Both of you."
At seven, Cedric went upstairs to change. Falcone had laid out clothes...dark pants, a black shirt, a jacket that fit perfectly. Clothes that said he belonged. That he wasn't afraid. That he was Falcone's and proud of it.
He dressed slowly, his hands shaking. In the mirror, he barely recognized himself. He looked older. Harder. Like someone who'd been through fire and come out stronger.
Or maybe just someone who was about to walk into hell and hoping to walk back out.
When he came back downstairs, Falcone was waiting. He'd changed too...all black, expensive, scary. He looked every inch the mafia boss, the man who commanded respect and fear.
But when he saw Cedric, his face softened. "You look..."
"Terrified?"
"Beautiful. Brave. Mine." Falcone held out his hand. "Ready?"
"No. But let's go anyway."
They walked out together, hand in hand, to where Marco waited by the car. The drive to Red Hook was silent, tension filling the space between them like something alive. Cedric watched the city blur past, trying to remember every detail in case this was the last time he saw it.
The warehouse loomed ahead...dark, empty, threatening in the evening light. Cars were already there, dozens of them, more arriving every minute. Men in suits standing around, smoking, talking in low voices. All of them armed. All of them ready for violence.
"Jesus," Cedric breathed. "How many people are here?"
"Too many." Falcone's jaw was tight. "This isn't a meeting. It's a show of force."
"We can still leave. We can..."
"No. We're here now. We see this through." Falcone turned to him. "Remember what you promised. You stay behind me. You do what I tell you. And if things go bad..."
"I know. I remember." Cedric squeezed his hand. "Together. We face this together."
"Together." Falcone kissed him then, hard and desperate, like he was trying to remember the taste. When he pulled back, his eyes were fierce. "I love you. Whatever happens in there, you need to know...I love you more than anything."
"I love you too. Now let's go show them what that means."
They got out of the car, and immediately, all eyes turned to them. Conversations stopped. Men straightened, hands moving toward weapons. The air went electric with tension.
Marco fell into step beside them, and other men...Falcone's men...formed a protective circle. But it wasn't enough. Not with how many people were here. Not with the way they were all watching Cedric like he was prey.
The warehouse doors were open, light spilling out into the darkening evening. Falcone's hand found Cedric's again, squeezing once...comfort or goodbye, Cedric couldn't tell.
Then they walked inside.
The warehouse was huge, mostly empty except for a long table in the center where men already sat. Older men, powerful men, representatives from other families. And at the head of the table...
Dante Falcone.
He looked like an older, harder version of Gianni. Same dark hair, same sharp features, but his eyes were colder. Crueler. When he saw Cedric, his lip curled in disgust.
"So," Dante said, his voice carrying through the warehouse. "You actually brought your whore. I wasn't sure you'd have the balls."
Falcone's grip on Cedric's hand tightened painfully. "Watch. Your. Mouth."
"Or what, little brother? You'll defend his honor?" Dante laughed, and several men joined him. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. You've gone soft. You're making decisions based on sex instead of logic."
"I'm making decisions based on my heart. You should try it sometime."
"The heart is weakness. Father taught us that." Dante stood, his hands flat on the table. "He raised us to be strong. To put family above everything. And you've forgotten that. You've let this..," He gestured at Cedric with disgust. "This boy make you weak."
"He makes me human. There's a difference."
"Not in our world." Dante's voice went hard. "In our world, being human gets you killed. So I'm giving you one last chance, Gianni. End this. Send him away. Prove you can still make the hard choices. Or step down and let someone lead who isn't weak."
Falcone looked at Cedric, then back at Dante. When he spoke, his voice was clear and certain.
"No."
The word echoed through the warehouse, followed by stunned silence.
"No?" Dante repeated. "You're choosing him? Over the family? Over everything Father built?"
"I'm choosing both. I'm choosing to build something new. Something that doesn't require me to give up my soul to keep power." Falcone's voice rang with conviction. "And if you can't accept that...if none of you can...then yes, I'll step down. But I won't be forced to choose between love and duty. Not anymore."
"Then you're a fool." Dante nodded to someone behind them.
The warehouse doors slammed shut.
And Cedric realized with a sinking heart that they'd walked into exactly what Falcone had feared.
A trap.