Page 10 of Of Vows and Betrayal

A flicker of hurt crosses her eyes, but it vanishes almostinstantly. “Oh,” she murmurs, “well, if it works for you, then I’m glad. I know you will be required to call me Miss Bergotti, but if you could call me Ophelia or Phee, please do. I still have quite a hard time with being the person I am.”

Before I can delve deeper into what she means, she turns away, dismissing the conversation and refocusing on her flowers.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Javier.”

I watch her back for a few seconds, trying to pinpoint where the conversation veered off. I remind myself why I’m here, why I can’t afford to get distracted by her innocence—real or feigned.

“See you tomorrow, Ophelia,” I reply, my voice firm, before turning and leaving the room.

I arrive at San Miguel Church just as the evening service ends. Watching Father Hernandez converse briefly with the last parishioner before he enters the confessional and signals it is occupied, I prepare myself for a different kind of confession.

The door creaks open, and I slip inside. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

I hear a sigh tinged with irritation. “This is how we’re going to do it?” Father Hernandez asks, barely masking his annoyance.

My smile widens. “Is that how a priest should answer a poor lost soul?”

There’s a pause. “Welcome, my child. May God be with you as you confess your sins. Begin whenever you’re ready.”

I lean back on the uncomfortable bench. “Much better! Where do I start? I’ve lied, deceived, stolen, and plotted, but I’m in.”

Silence hangs for a moment until the door swings open, and Father Hernandez stands before me, his eyes narrowed. He might not look menacing in his clerical habit, but appearances can be deceptive. Matching my height at six-five and packed with muscle beneath his black garb, I know he’s capable of lethal force—his past life wasn’t always so holy.

“You’re in? As in Bergotti’s fold?” His voice carries a mix of doubt and concern; knowing Bergotti’s notoriety and Gambino’s legendary paranoia, I can’t blame him.

I stand and adjust my suit jacket. “Yep.” I step out of the confessional and head toward the side door leading to his quarters.

“Javier!” he hisses, trailing close behind. “You can’t just leave it at ‘yep.’”

Entering his modest living area, I take a seat at the banged-up table. “I’ll have a coffee, thanks.”

He flips me the middle finger, and I burst out laughing.

“Not very clerical of you, Tiago,” I taunt.

I sigh, watching him work in the cramped kitchenette. His living space is sparse, a far cry from the affluent lifestyle he once knew before joining the seminary, yet it’s a significant upgrade from the slum we both crawled out of.

“The daughter.” I finally break the silence.

He raises a scarred eyebrow, a mark I gave him during a knife fight I instigated years ago, his gaze filling with both wariness and curiosity. “The daughter?”

“That’s my way in. I’m her bodyguard now.”

“Her bodyguard?” His voice is laced with disbelief.

I can’t suppress a smirk. “Yeah, I know. The irony isn’t lost on me.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. “What did you do to that poor girl to land such a position?”

I roll my eyes. “I didn’t do anything to her. I simply seized an opportunity. I didn’t hurt her if that’s what you’re implying. And please, spare me the ‘poor girl’ bit. She’s a Gambino, born with Bergotti blood.”

He sighs, the lines of weariness etched deeply into his face, a look he reserves almost exclusively for me. “Javier, don’t sacrifice an innocent to serve your vendetta. Remember Ezekiel 18:20—‘The soul who sins shall die. The son shall not suffer for the iniquity of the father, nor the father suffer for the iniquity of the son.’”

“Ah, but what about ‘an eye for an eye’ from Exodus?” I retort.

Tiago sets his cup down. “You know your Bible well for someone who claims atheism.”

I dismiss his comment with a wave of my hand. “We went to Sunday school together, Tiago. I may question faith, but I don’t forget.” I feel a twinge of guilt at the image of Ophelia’s smiling face. “I’m just keeping my promise to update you. Why are you so passive about all this? Don’t you crave justice too?”

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