"That guy... looks like he's about to lose control!"
Back in her room, Sofia completely dropped her earlier resolute facade. Instead, her face was etched with even deeper sorrow.
She had always noticed her godson Francis looking at her with strange, inappropriate eyes. But while Old Martin was around, she simply couldn't be bothered to care.
However, ever since Old Martin suffered his stroke and was hospitalized, Francis had grown increasingly brazen.
When Old Martin was healthy, Francis only dared to steal glances.
Once Old Martin was hospitalized, Francis started staring at her openly.
And over the past two days, the staring had escalated into blatant harassment.
Sofia was terrified to imagine what would happen if this continued.
The reality was, Sofia was nothing more than an expensive vase Old Martin had brought home. She held absolutely zero power within the family and had never borne Old Martin a child.
In truth, Old Martin had long since lost his physical capabilities as a man. Sofia had genuinely just been a decorative piece for years.
The reason was simple. As the boss of a violent syndicate like the Bonanno family, Old Martin needed objects—or people—to prove he was still a virile, powerful man.
A breathtakingly beautiful woman like Sofia served that exact purpose perfectly.
Otherwise, why did Old Martin only have one son, Little Martin?
Much like other culture, traditional Italian culture highly values large families and multiple children.
"I don't know if I can hold out until Mr. Pastore gets back..."
With Old Martin hospitalized and Little Martin murdered, the only person in the family Sofia could trust was Luca Pastore.
But Luca had been out of town on business for a week. If he were here, Francis never would have dared to act this recklessly.
"No! I can't just sit here and wait to be destroyed!"
Suddenly, Sofia remembered the handsome Asian guy she met at the church a week ago. He claimed he had a way to handle Francis Ricci and even left her his phone number.
"Where is that piece of paper? Where did I put it?"
Sofia frantically searched for the number the Asian guy left. She tore through half her room but couldn't find it.
"Right! I shoved it in the pocket of the clothes I was wearing that day!"
Rushing to her closet, Sofia quickly found the outfit.
Incredibly lucky for her, her high-end clothes couldn't be machine-washed, so the slip of paper was still sitting perfectly in the pocket, even nicely ironed.
But holding the paper, Sofia hesitated again. She stared at the name and number, lost in deep thought.
After a long pause, Sofia finally picked up her phone and dialed the number.
"Hello, this is Lawson. Who is this?"
Judging by the background noise, Lawson was currently driving.
Sofia gathered her courage and spoke.
"It's Sofia."
That instantly made Lawson hit the brakes. He had been waiting for Sofia's call, but absolutely didn't expect it to come right before tonight's operation.
"Mrs. Bonanno. You finally called."
"Call me Sofia. I strongly dislike the title 'Mrs. Bonanno'."
Perhaps because Lawson was a stranger, Sofia made zero effort to hide her true feelings.
Lawson clearly heard the deep, genuine disgust in her voice when referring to the title, so he immediately adjusted.
"Ms. Sofia. Are you calling because you're ready to work together?"
"Yes. I want to cooperate, but I have one condition."
"Oh? Let's hear it."
"I want out of the Bonanno family."
Meanwhile, at the Korean Restaurant.
It was 10:00 PM, but the Korean BBQ joint was still incredibly busy.
Groups of middle-aged, distinctly Italian men swaggered into the restaurant, each trailed by one or two highly intimidating soldiers. They practically screamed "underworld."
Soon, a dozen middle-aged men gathered in a luxury private room on the second floor, served by several young Korean hostesses.
"Why did Alberto suddenly invite us here for dinner? Giuseppe, you know what this is about?"
"Federico, do you even need to ask? He's obviously trying to buy us off! You know exactly who Alberto works for!"
It was an open secret within the Bonanno family that Alberto was Francis's man.
"To be fair, with Mr. Bonanno hospitalized, the family definitely needs a new leader."
One middle-aged man suddenly spoke up, seemingly testing the waters for Francis. But another capo immediately glared at him.
"Francis isn't Mr. Bonanno's blood. Plus, he's just a consigliere! How can a consigliere become the boss? It breaks every rule we have! If we're backing anyone, it should be Mr. Marino!"
Marino was Felice's last name—one of the family's other underbosses who had been present at Mercy Hospital.
In the Mafia, while the consigliere holds significant status, they are rarely considered for the top spot.
The logic is simple: consiglieres don't handle street-level violence or frontline operations. Therefore, capos and underbosses who fought their way up from the streets rarely respect a consigliere enough to follow him into war.
It's highly similar to Hong Kong triads. The "White Paper Fan" (advisor) rarely becomes the Dragon Head; the foot soldiers almost exclusively back the "Red Pole" (enforcer).
"What are you saying? Mr. Ricci has made massive contributions to this family over the years!"
"Contributions? What, did Francis slip you an envelope?"
"You're the one taking Felice's money!"
Seeing the argument escalating toward violence, a peacemaker quickly stepped in.
"Enough! We're here to eat, not start a war! Waitress, where's the food? And where the hell is Alberto?"
The tension inside the luxury room perfectly mirrored the current state of the Bonanno family.
With Old Martin sidelined by his stroke, Francis wasn't the only one making a play. Felice Marino's ambition had also flared up.
With Little Martin dead, Old Martin had no official heir.
When the king leaves no successor, the powerful lords naturally vie for the throne.
Right now, the Bonanno capos were splintered into several factions. The majority backed Felice Marino.
After all, Felice had spilled blood and physically fought for the Bonanno family. That naturally earned him far more respect from the street-level capos than Francis, who just sat behind a desk.
The second largest group remained strictly neutral. Only a small minority openly supported Francis.
Francis hadn't anticipated this fierce resistance. To break the stalemate and seize power, he had no choice but to execute a highly extreme, incredibly dangerous maneuver.
Amidst the capos' bickering, Alberto finally entered the luxury room. He waved his hand, dismissing the Korean hostesses. The waitstaff began serving the food.
"Alberto, why did you send them away? It's rare to find girls this obedient!"
"Relax, Davide. Some things just aren't meant for their ears."
Alberto closed the heavy doors to the private room, then turned to face the capos.
"Mr. Ricci wants me to ask you all a simple question: Are you willing to support him as the new boss of the Bonanno family?"
The capos exchanged looks. The man who had explicitly opposed Francis earlier immediately stood up.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?"
"In that case, I offer my deepest condolences."
Alberto pulled the doors back open. Standing in the hallway was a line of men in black suits, every single one holding a submachine gun.
(Sofia Bonanno)