Silvio had been quiet for some time.
Joseph noticed it but did not interrupt the silence.
At last Silvio spoke.
"You're describing those years very calmly."
Joseph glanced at him.
Silvio continued.
"Too calmly."
A faint smile touched Joseph's face.
"That surprises you?"
"A little."
Silvio rested his hands together.
"When people talk about that period now they usually talk about blood.
Or chaos."
He looked toward the window.
"You talk about it like a structure collapsing."
Joseph nodded slightly.
"That's closer to what it was."
Silvio considered this.
"Yes," he said slowly. "Structures collapse long before people notice."
Joseph said nothing.
Silvio continued almost absently.
"By the time Don Vincente died the Council was already hollow."
Joseph raised his eyes.
"You noticed that too."
Silvio shrugged.
"It wasn't subtle."
A quiet pause.
"The younger families wanted the heroin routes," Silvio said.
"The older bosses wanted to preserve the construction rackets."
Joseph nodded.
"Two economies."
"Two generations."
"And two kinds of ambition," Joseph added.
Silvio's mouth moved slightly, as if agreeing with a thought he did not say aloud.
"The bomb only made the fracture visible."
Joseph studied him.
"Yes."
"That's exactly what it did."
Silence settled again.
After a moment Joseph spoke.
"You asked earlier how DeSantino survived."
Silvio did not look at him.
"Yes."
Joseph folded his hands.
"The truth is less impressive than people imagine."
Silvio glanced up briefly.
"Most truths are."
Joseph nodded.
"When Don Vincente died we lost our position in the Council."
He spoke calmly, almost mechanically.
"When Vitelli disappeared we lost our reputation for violence."
"And when the Council collapsed entirely we lost our influence inside the Cosche."
Silvio listened without interruption.
"To the rest of the island," Joseph continued, "DeSantino looked finished."
Silvio nodded slowly.
"Yes."
Joseph noticed the tone.
"You agree."
"Of course."
Silvio's voice was mild.
"Finished families are rarely hunted."
Joseph looked at him with faint curiosity.
"You've thought about this before."
Silvio gave a small shrug.
"Everyone who survived those years thought about it."
Joseph nodded.
"They hunt kings," he said quietly.
Silvio answered without hesitation.
"Bontarelli."
Joseph allowed himself a small smile.
"Yes."
The name hung in the room for a moment.
"He controlled the ports," Joseph continued.
"The refining laboratories."
"The shipping routes."
"The politicians."
Silvio added quietly:
"And the illusion of permanence."
Joseph looked at him.
"That too."
A pause followed.
"The Corlevara clans had wanted that empire for years," Joseph said.
"Yes," Silvio murmured.
"They were patient."
"Patient and hungry."
Joseph leaned slightly forward.
"But they couldn't move while the Council existed."
Silvio nodded.
"The Council enforced balance."
"Exactly."
Joseph's voice softened.
"So the Council had to disappear."
Silvio did not respond immediately.
Then he said:
"Strange thing about power."
Joseph looked at him.
"It dismantles the structures that created it."
Joseph's smile returned.
"You're describing Bontarelli."
Silvio's expression did not change.
"Ambitious men often believe the structure has already served its purpose."
Joseph nodded.
"That was his mistake."
Silvio spoke almost to himself.
"He thought the island already belonged to him."
Joseph said quietly:
"Yes."
The room fell silent again.
Then Joseph continued.
"When the Council collapsed the island changed overnight."
Silvio shook his head slightly.
"No."
Joseph looked up.
"No?"
"It didn't change overnight," Silvio said softly.
"It simply stopped pretending."
Joseph watched him for a moment.
Then he nodded.
"That's well said."
He continued.
"The Corlevara clans began removing the old bosses."
Executions.
Disappearances.
Acid baths.
Families erased.
Associates hunted.
The island slowly filling with unmarked graves.
Silvio's voice was almost absent.
"Yes."
Joseph looked at him.
"And through all of this…"
He paused.
"They ignored us."
Silvio nodded.
"Yes."
Joseph raised an eyebrow.
"You're not surprised."
"No."
Silvio's tone remained calm.
"A corpse doesn't attract predators."
Joseph smiled faintly.
"Exactly."
Silence stretched.
Then Joseph continued.
"The Corlevara clans wanted the heroin empire."
Silvio said quietly:
"They envied it."
Joseph nodded.
"Yes."
"Every night they watched Bontarelli's ships leaving the ports."
"They watched money crossing the sea."
"They watched one family becoming an empire."
Silvio added softly:
"And envy is the most reliable fuel in politics."
Joseph looked at him with mild approval.
"Yes."
Another pause.
Then Silvio asked, not sharply, simply continuing the thread of thought:
"So what did you do?"
Joseph answered almost gently.
"Very little."
Silvio waited.
Joseph continued.
"We allowed the envy to grow."
Silvio nodded slightly.
"Yes."
Joseph's voice lowered.
"And eventually it required a target."
Silvio looked at him.
"Bontarelli."
Joseph nodded.
"Yes."
Silence settled again.
After a moment Silvio spoke.
"So the island began eating itself."
Joseph smiled faintly.
"That's one way to describe it."
Silvio leaned back.
"And DeSantino?"
Joseph's eyes darkened slightly.
"We remained where we were."
Silvio considered that.
"The safest place in a forest fire," he said quietly,
"is sometimes the ground that has already burned."
Joseph studied him.
"Yes."
Then he added softly:
"And sooner or later…"
"…Bontarelli would need a sword."
Silvio did not ask what he meant.
He already understood.
And Joseph knew that he understood.