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Felice had been waiting for Luca to open his mouth. The moment he did, the old capo dropped his second bomb.
"The second issue," he announced, voice ringing through the church, "is that our dear Madam Bonanno has been carrying on a secret, illicit affair!"
The words hit like a thunderclap. The entire congregation froze.
Luca looked like he was about to stroke out on the spot. Accusing the Boss's wife of cheating while the man lay half-dead in a hospital bed was the ultimate insult—ripping Old Martin's dignity out of the grave and stomping on it.
In their world, respect was currency. A Boss getting cuckolded on his deathbed would make the Bonannos the punchline of every crew from here to New York.
Luca's loyalty to Old Martin was ironclad. He couldn't let it slide.
"You bastard!" he roared. "Felice Marino, do you even hear yourself?!"
"Relax, Luca. I've got proof."
Luca didn't give a damn about proof. Proof would only make it worse.
"Shut your fucking mouth right now!"
He lunged forward, hands already reaching for Felice's throat.
Antonio gave a quick nod. Two of his massive enforcers stepped in instantly, grabbing Luca's arms and pinning him back.
"What the hell are you doing?! Get your hands off me!"
"Mr. Pastore, please don't make a scene."
Luca had been the only capo who hadn't brought his own bodyguards inside. He'd thought this was a sacred family meeting. That mistake was costing him now.
At fifty-something, he couldn't muscle past two younger, prime enforcers. They dragged him backward, away from the center aisle.
Right on cue, Felice's star witness came walking down the aisle and stopped directly in front of Sofia.
"Black Sonny… I should have known," Sofia whispered, her voice ice-cold.
Sonny gave an awkward, apologetic little bow. "I'm sorry, Madam."
The betrayal cut deep. Sofia had trusted him.
"What exactly did they promise you?" she asked softly.
Sonny wasn't about to admit he'd been bought.
"I'm just here to tell the truth, Madam."
"Skip the bullshit, Sonny," Felice barked, stepping in fast before the rat could slip up. "Tell the family what you saw."
Sonny hesitated half a second, then recited the lines he'd been paid to deliver.
"While I was on the Madam's security detail, I personally witnessed her spending hours alone in closed rooms with a young, handsome Asian guy named Lawson. They were… extremely close. Intimate. I couldn't stand by and watch Mr. Bonanno disrespected like that while he was in the hospital, so I went to Mr. Marino."
The church exploded.
Thanks to Rafferty parading Lawson around at the smaller street-level meetings the past few weeks, half the made men already knew exactly who he was. And a guy that good-looking was impossible to forget.
In traditional Italian culture, infidelity was unforgivable. Furious shouts erupted from the pews.
"Where the hell is Lawson?!"
"Why isn't he here tonight?!"
Felice looked down at Sofia with a triumphant smirk.
"When I came to escort you tonight, Lawson was nowhere to be found. Must've crawled into a hole to hide. So tell me, Madam… how do you explain that?"
Felice and Antonio had finally drawn their knives. They'd chosen the deadliest patriarchal weapon—an accusation of infidelity—to gut Sofia's authority in one clean strike.
It was a brilliant blow against the very foundation of her power.
Felice and Antonio had thirty-plus years of blood and sweat invested in the family. Absolute seniority.
Francis had drawn his strength from running the books as Consigliere and being Old Martin's godson.
Sofia? She had zero résumé. For ten years she'd simply been the beautiful woman standing beside the Boss. She'd never pulled a trigger, never collected an envelope, never earned the family a single dime. Her only claim to power was the title "Mrs. Bonanno."
If they could prove she'd dragged that title through the mud, her entire foundation would collapse.
Sitting in the pew, Sofia suddenly understood exactly why Lawson had always rejected her advances. If he hadn't shown that terrifying self-control, she would be completely defenseless right now.
"What's the matter?" Felice taunted, savoring the moment. "Cat got your tongue?"
But instead of crumbling, Sofia slowly rose to her feet. A serene, breathtakingly beautiful, and utterly fearless smile spread across her face.
That smile made Felice's heart skip. Something was wrong.
"I never wanted to discuss my husband's private medical issues in front of the family," Sofia said, her voice carrying clearly through the stunned silence. "But since you've forced my hand, I have no choice. The truth is… I am still a virgin."
Luca's eyes rolled back and he collapsed heavily into the pew.
The uproar in the church doubled instantly. Shouts of shock mixed with sudden, stifled bursts of laughter.
If a Boss getting cuckolded was bad, a Boss marrying a drop-dead gorgeous woman and failing to consummate the marriage was pure comedy gold. Old Martin's legacy was now destined to be the punchline of every joke in Los Angeles for the next decade.
Felice actually stumbled backward.
"Bullshit! That's impossible! There's no way you're still untouched!"
Sofia let out a cold, mocking laugh.
"Why would I lie about something that can be proven so easily? I am, or I'm not. If you don't believe me, pick any woman you trust and have her examine me right here, right now."
Felice and Antonio exchanged panicked glances. For Sofia to offer a physical exam in front of the entire family meant she was almost certainly telling the truth. A lie like that would be exposed in seconds.
But Felice refused to surrender. He clung to the desperate hope she was bluffing.
"Are there any nurses or doctors among the families here tonight?!" he shouted. "If your wife or daughter has medical training, step forward!"
As it turned out, two of the made men's wives were registered nurses. They were quickly brought to the front and escorted Sofia into a private rectory behind the altar.
Felice and Antonio paced like caged animals, waiting for the verdict that would decide their fate.
Black Sonny was already sweating bullets. He knew he was standing on the edge of a cliff with no way back.
A few minutes later the door opened.
The two nurses stepped out and addressed the silent church.
"We swear before God… Madam Sofia is telling the truth. She is completely untouched."
For Italians, swearing an oath before God inside a Catholic church carried absolute, unbreakable weight.
"Impossible!" Felice screamed, eyes bloodshot. "I don't believe it! How the hell could she still be untouched?!"
His brain simply couldn't process it. How could any red-blooded man sleep under the same roof as a woman that beautiful and not touch her? Was Lawson even human?
(If Lawson had been there, he would have grinned and said: Bring your daughter over and I'll show you exactly what kind of man I am.)
If Felice had been ten years younger, he would have tried his own luck. In their world, a woman like Sofia was the ultimate trophy.
The entire church erupted. Any lingering doubt vanished. The evidence was undeniable, and Old Martin's reputation was officially dead and buried.
But more importantly—not a single man in that room believed Sofia had ever slept with Lawson.
"ENOUGH!"
Luca's roar shook the rafters.
Fueled by pure rage, he violently shoved Antonio's enforcers aside and stormed straight up to Felice.
The two big men were so stunned by the virginity revelation they didn't even try to stop him.
"Felice Marino! This circus ends right now! You have disgraced this family enough!" Luca screamed, face purple with fury.
But Sofia wasn't letting Felice off the hook. He had tried to publicly humiliate her—she was going to bury him for it.
"Luca, this isn't over."
Luca turned, still breathing hard. "Madam, what do you mean?"
Sofia's icy mask cracked. She suddenly looked fragile, eyes welling with tears.
"My husband has only been in the hospital for a month, and already his oldest friends are conspiring to frame me and destroy his name. If this is happening now… I'm terrified to think what you'll do to me next week."
The sight of a woman that breathtakingly beautiful crying softly in front of the altar hit every made man in the gut. A wave of raw sympathy swept through the pews.
At the same time, it backed Felice into a deadly corner.
Mobsters might be killers, but there were unwritten rules. Bullying a helpless widow and an orphaned daughter was deeply dishonorable.
Every man in that room had a wife and kids. They all lived with the fear of what would happen to their own families if they caught a bullet or a life sentence.
Seeing Felice actively trying to destroy the Boss's widow disgusted them.
Dozens of cold, hostile stares locked onto him.
Realizing he was losing the room, Felice panicked and threw his own pawn under the bus.
"He lied to me! Black Sonny fed me the intel! I was manipulated!"
Black Sonny spun around and bolted for the doors. He knew he was a dead man—Felice, Sofia, and Luca all wanted his head.
But there were over a hundred Bonanno soldiers in the church. He didn't make it five steps before they grabbed him and dragged him back to the altar.
"Wait! Madam, please! I can explain! Felice put a gun to my head and made me do it!" Sonny screamed, scrambling backward across the marble.
BANG!
Felice drew his pistol and shot Sonny point-blank in the head.
The gunshot inside the church shattered whatever order remained. The sit-down was officially chaos.
Luca stared at Felice in horror.
"Felice, what the fuck are you doing?! You just executed a made man without a trial!"
Across the church, dozens of soldiers reached for their guns.
Felice scrambled to justify it. "He slandered the Madam, then tried to slander me! A rat like that doesn't deserve a trial!"
"So anyone who accuses you gets a bullet?!" Luca roared, stepping right into Felice's face, spit flying. "I think Sonny was telling the truth! You gonna shoot me next?!"
Felice's face twisted in an ugly grimace. He had completely lost the moral high ground.
Seeing his partner drowning, Antonio finally stepped in. If Felice went down, his own shot at the throne died with him.
"Luca, back off. Sonny was a traitor. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he was working for the Irish the whole time, trying to tear us apart."
"That doesn't give him the right to play judge, jury, and executioner! What the hell is wrong with you two?!"
Luca looked at his two oldest friends with deep, exhausted disappointment. It was like he no longer recognized them.
Power and greed had hollowed them out, leaving strangers he could no longer trust.
"I think we all know exactly why Mr. Costa and Mr. Marino are doing this," Sofia said coldly, cutting through the shouting. "They want the chair."
Felice kept lying through his teeth. "Bullshit! I told you, Sonny manipulated me!"
With Sonny bleeding out on the floor, he couldn't testify against them.
The sit-down had reached a dead end. Sofia had survived the character assassination, but she still didn't have hard evidence to execute Felice and Antonio for treason.
And right now, neither of them had the leverage to remove her.
Then the heavy oak doors at the back of the church swung open.
A handsome young Asian man strolled in, soaking wet from the rain but smiling like he'd just walked into a party.
"Wow. Sorry I'm late! Traffic was a nightmare. Did I miss anything good?"
Sofia's face lit up with pure joy. The crushing weight on her chest vanished in an instant. Her real shield had finally arrived.
"Lawson?"
Luca recognized him instantly. Lawson had become a fixture at the estate. In fact, Luca's own lingering suspicions about Lawson's closeness to Sofia were what had pushed him to force that vow of celibacy earlier.
Lawson didn't need the Joker mask or C4 this time. He was now an officially recognized associate of the Bonanno family. He walked straight down the center aisle.
"I know you were all wondering where I was tonight. Turns out I was tracking down something interesting—a recording of a phone call between Mr. Costa and the late Francis Ricci. Who wants to hear it?"
Antonio's eyes went wide with raw panic. He had never expected the fire to swing his way.
The whole coup had been built with Felice as the front man. Antonio was supposed to take the throne with clean hands, supporting from the shadows.
But he had no idea whether Francis had actually recorded their calls. That was exactly why he'd hired Frank to kill Francis—to bury the evidence.
Lawson didn't wait for permission. He pulled a small digital recorder from his pocket and hit play.
"Stop him!" Antonio screamed, completely losing control.
His enforcers lunged forward, but Sofia's voice cracked like a whip.
"Mr. Costa. Let Mr. Lawson play the tape."
Dozens of Bonanno soldiers instantly stepped into the aisle, physically blocking Antonio's men. Felice and Antonio had burned every last ounce of goodwill. The soldiers were now firmly behind Sofia.
The church fell deathly silent as the recording began.
Every made man clearly heard Francis Ricci and Antonio Costa calmly discussing the murder of Little Martin and the hostile takeover while Old Martin lay in a coma.
"That's not me! It's fake!" Antonio screamed desperately.
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