‘Yeah,’ he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat down. ‘What else is there?’

‘Can we just vote already?’ CJ was the youngest in the room and he appeared to be monumentally bored. I guessed his murder of Sara Marino had earned him his place at the table.

‘Wait.’ Luca stood up and walked alongside the table, stopping behind Paulie and pinning his attention on his mother. ‘Nic shouldn’t have to plead Sophie’s case by presenting her as a weapon at our disposal. Sophie seeks what is good and just in this world, just like we do. Her loyalties are decided not by blood but by right and wrong. She has never betrayed this family, and when times have questioned her allegiance she has stood beside the Falcones. She risked her life to save mine. Now we can repay her. This isn’t a matter of her use but of our collective conscience, and whether we are going to do the right thing.’

The room had fallen silent. Valentino’s eyes were closed, his frown deepening bit by bit. The words were not sitting well with him; I could feel it. I could feel it coming towards me, like a tidal wave. Beside him, Felice’s gaze was hooded with caution.

‘Eloquently put, Luca,’ said Paulie. ‘You truly are your father’s son.’

Elena tapped her nails along the table and heads turned in her direction. ‘Eloquent or not, my son,’ she said. ‘There is still the question of whether she will betray us.’ Her exhale sounded disconcertingly like a warning whistle, and it snapped something inside me.

I had had enough of my name being bashed. Plus, I had stayed silent for what must have been a world record for me. I stepped forward, clearing my throat and intending to clear my name too, before she stomped over it any more. ‘I’m not a snitch. I know the importance of omertà. I’ve never spoken to a cop about anything to do with you or my uncle. I came today with information hoping you might give my mother and me something in return. I’ve never tried to betray any of you, despite your actions – which have, in the past, been pretty shady.’

‘Shady?’ grumbled the young man with the shaved head.

‘Case in point: my kidnapping and attempted murder.’

That shut him up.

I stamped down the quiver in my throat. ‘I love my mother more than anything. Donata Marino is threatening to split us apart if I don’t do what she wants. Jack has installed himself in the Marino family. His vendetta against this family is stronger than ever. They are coming for me and they are coming for you. I’ve come here for your protection because I can’t protect myself. But that doesn’t make me weak; it makes me smart.’

‘So you propose we offer you our protection for nothing?’ snapped Elena. ‘You will deplete our attention and our reserves because you’ve involved yourself in something that was none of your business in the first place?’

‘We are the reason she’s involved in this,’ interrupted Luca.

‘No.’ The word was so small it almost got lost in the rising argument. But I had been expecting it. I had been waiting – like a lot of other people, apparently – for Felice to finally open his mouth.

Luca rounded on him. ‘What do you mean, “no”?’

Felice stood up, his sudden height commanding all of the attention in the room. He fixed his tie with one hand, his other clutching the envelope Valentino had handed him. ‘I mean we are not the reason she has been sucked into this world.’ His voice was utterly emotionless, his words quietly sure as he flicked his attention to me and said, ‘Sophie has been part of this world since birth.’

One by one, every head turned in my direction.

There was a cavernous silence.

Nic broke it. ‘What?’

Echoes of ‘What?’ followed.

‘What?’ I added, just for good measure.

Valentino was sitting back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of his mouth. ‘I gave you ten minutes, Sophie. I gave you the opportunity to come clean on your own, but you wasted it. So, you can say it now,’ he offered with blithe indifference. ‘Or you can let Felice tell them.’

I was suddenly keenly aware that Valentino was not talking about The Kiss, and that whatever was in that envelope was not evidence of what had happened with Luca.

‘Valentino …’ I began, trying not to focus on thirty pairs of eyes burning through my skin. ‘I really have no idea what you’re talking about. I think there’s been some confusion …’

‘Oh, there has been confusion, Persephone,’ said Felice. ‘Why don’t we alleviate it right now? Tell us, bugiarda, at what point in your pathetic relationship with my nephew were you planning on telling him that you are, in fact, a Marino?’

The accusation landed like a slap in the face. I jerked backwards, halfway between a laugh and a splutter, as incredulity washed over me. My mouth fell open, as I grasped for a response. It was a struggle to find the right words to aptly communicate just how insane Felice was being. This was character assassination at its worst. ‘Stop,’ was all I could manage. ‘Just stop.’

The silence sizzled as Felice leant across the table towards me. ‘I thought I knew those eyes from somewhere.’ He pointed directly at me and I noticed, dimly, that everyone else leant closer too. ‘Those are Vincenzo Marino’s eyes. Those are the same eyes I looked into when I pulled the trigger and shattered his skull.’

There was a collective intake of breath.