The Detonator at East Docks

Stale cigar smoke had settled into the curtains of the Moretti council room. Whiskey stood beside every place at the mahogany table, though no one had touched it. I remembered this room. I had made the wrong choice here once and paid for it in a cellar. Julian sat across from me with the pleasant smile he used on politicians and priests. The younger Moretti brother was handsome, courteous, and easy to trust. Everyone in the room expected me to choose him. They had never heard him apologize while breaking a woman's fingers. Dante occupied the chair beside him. The heir had come straight from family business; cordite still clung to his suit. He watched the whiskey turn in his glass and made no effort to charm me. [This time, I’ll be smarter. This time, I’ll grab the prize.] A girl's voice cut across my thoughts, though no one had spoken. It belonged to my stepsister, Chloe. Her lips stayed closed while she stared at Julian. [He’s so perfect. Once I’m his wife, you’ll be nothing, Ava.] This was no dream. I was back in the council room, and somehow I could hear what Chloe kept behind her smile. Chloe rose before anyone invited her and took the chair beside Julian. She curled both hands around his arm. "Julian, darling. We all know who the best choice is." My father, the family consigliere, cleared his throat. "Ava. The Don is waiting. Choose your husband." Last time, I chose Julian. Once I stopped being useful, he locked me in a damp cellar. He kept saying he loved me while he broke my fingers one by one over a mistake in the books. I would not make that choice twice. I stood. Chloe smiled at Julian, already certain he belonged to her. I crossed the room in the other direction and stopped in front of Dante. He finished turning his glass before he looked up. There was no welcome in his face. He studied me as he would study a problem someone else had brought to his desk. "I choose Dante," I said. A few people gasped. Chloe's mouth fell open. Julian lost his smile for one second, then put it back. Dante set down his glass. The base clicked against the wood. "You're sure?" "You're playing with fire, little accountant." "I'm very good with numbers, Dante." I kept my hands loose at my sides. "I calculate my risks." Dante held my gaze, waiting for me to take it back. I didn't. His thumb tapped once against the glass. He stood, and I had to tip my head back. "Fine. When you get burned, don't come crying to me." He left without waiting for the Don to dismiss him. No one tried to stop him. Chloe stared at me, then pulled Julian's arm closer. She had the gentle Moretti brother all to herself now. She looked pleased. I remembered the key turning in the cellar door and looked away before she could read anything in my face.