She could feel every eye on her. Eyes that belonged to men who had killed, protected and bled for the name she was being brought into. Her palms were damp, but she kept her hands still.
Marco stepped toward her. He looked different tonight. Tonight, he was the voice of the famiglia. Serious. Formal. Almost priest-like. "Who do you belong to?" he asked.
Vee's eyes flicked to Luca. He remained seated, calm and silent, watching her with a gaze that steadied and unsettled her at the same time. "Luciano Genovese," she answered.
"What stands above your own life?"
"The Genovese famiglia."
"What becomes of traitors?" Marco asked.
"Death."
"Will you protect this family even against the blood of your blood?"
Vee stilled. The question hit wrong. No, not wrong. Too deep. For the first time since she stepped onto the crest, her composure cracked. Her eyes reached for Luca, mind scrambling.
