CHAP 8 — THE COST OF PROTECTION
Vincent wanted Mave out of New York.
Mave refused.
They argued in the kitchen until two in the morning.
“You are not walking into a room Carmine controls.”
“My mother is there.”
“That’s why he chose her.”
“So?”
“So he knows you’ll stop thinking.”
Mave stared.
“And you never stop thinking?”
“I try.”
“No. You control.”
His expression hardened.
“That keeps people alive.”
“It also keeps them ignorant.”
Vincent went silent.
Mave lowered her voice.
“You hired me because you knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me for years.”
“Yes.”
“You knew pieces of my life I didn’t know.”
“Yes.”
“And every time you decided not to tell me, you called it protection.”
He looked at her.
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
“I was afraid.”
That stopped her.
Vincent Costa did not say those words.
Not easily.
He continued.
“My father handed me your file the night before he died.”
His voice was quieter.
“He told me Marcus Vale’s daughter would someday come near the organization. He told me if Carmine was alive, he would come for you.”
Mave listened.
“I hired you because I wanted you where I could see you.”
“That’s not romantic.”
“I’m not trying to make it romantic.”
“Good.”
“I kept you because you were better at your job than everyone who came before you.”
A faint pause.
“And because after six months, my office felt wrong when you weren’t outside it.”
Mave’s anger weakened.
Vincent looked annoyed by his own confession.
“You organized my life.”
“That is literally my job.”
“You remembered how my mother’s death anniversary affected me even though I never told you the date.”
Mave said nothing.
“You knew when to cancel meetings because I hadn’t slept. You knew which calls I was avoiding. You knew I hated charity dinners.”
“You still made me attend one.”
“That was a catastrophic management decision.”
She almost smiled.
Vincent stepped closer.
“I was supposed to protect Marcus Vale’s daughter.”
His eyes stayed on hers.
“Somewhere along the way, I started protecting Mave.”
Her breath changed.
“And now?”
“Now I’m trying to understand the difference between protecting you and controlling you.”
Mave whispered:
“Good.”
“Apparently I’m bad at it.”
“Very.”
For one second, neither moved.
Then Mave kissed him.
Vincent froze.
She almost pulled back.
His hand touched her face.
The second kiss was not hesitant.
Three years of unsaid things collapsed into a few dangerous seconds.
Then Mave stepped away.
Vincent’s eyes remained closed briefly.
“That was unprofessional.”
“I’m technically a multibillion-dollar shareholder.”
“Even worse.”
She smiled.
Then the reality returned.
“My mother.”
Vincent nodded.
“Together.”
“No more ordering me behind you.”
He considered.
“I reserve the right if bullets are involved.”
“Vincent.”
“Fine.”
A pause.
“I’ll strongly recommend.”
Mave rolled her eyes.
The next morning, she activated the first stage of the Vale ownership claim.
Carmine responded within eleven minutes.
One message.
Withdraw the claim.
Come alone.
Your mother walks free.
Attached was a photograph.
Elena Vale.
Older.
Thinner.
Alive.
Holding that morning’s newspaper.
Mave touched the screen.
Vincent stood beside her.
This time he did not tell her what to do.
He asked:
“What do you want?”
Mave looked at the photograph.
Then at the ledger.
Then at Vincent.
“I want Carmine to believe I’m going to give him exactly what he asked for.”
Vincent’s mouth curved slightly.
“And then?”
May you like
Mave’s expression hardened.
“Then I want to show him what happens when you underestimate a secretary.”
