His voice was weak, raspy from blood loss, but it carried the weight of authority.

“I have enough to clean out this room,” Leo spat.

He glanced at the three older captains standing by the rain-streaked window.

“Are you going to stand there and let a dying man dictate the future?” Leo asked them.

The captain named Frank stepped forward, his eyes cold.

“We follow the bloodline, Leo,” Frank said.

“We follow the leader chosen by the commission.”

Leo let out a harsh, mocking laugh that sounded like dry leaves scraping pavement.

“The bloodline?” Leo asked.

“You think Dominic is the only one left?”

He pointed his shaking gun directly at me.

“Ask her who she is,” Leo hissed.

The captains all turned their heads to look at me.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.

I tried to shrink back into the shadows of the bookcase, but there was nowhere to hide.

“Who is the girl, Dominic?” Silvio asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

“She’s a waitress from the diner,” one of Leo’s men muttered.

“She’s more than that,” Dominic said, his voice rising from behind the chair.