Page 88 of Clash of Sin and Secret

I take my seat, and Scottie stands behind my chair, her gaze impressively neutral considering the emotions lashing within her.

He’ll never touch you again, Scots. I’ll slaughter him in this sanctuary and risk the wrath of the Fondatori laws before I allow him to hurt you further.

You’ll do no such thing. That’s what he wants. We’ll abide by the laws of parley. This building is a safe haven and no violence will be tolerated. We’ll play this exactly as our fathers would have.

She’s right, of course. We may not be centuries old like most of the Fondatori, but we were raised by two of the most strategic, honorable, lethal men to ever live. Our fathers will live on through us forever.

Around the table, the most powerful vampires in the world settle into their places, ready to weigh in on my future. Agostino is offered a chair on the opposite side of the room. He isn’t invited to sit at the table of kings, which I’m thankful for.

When the room falls quiet, Ashikaga nods at me. “Zane Vasari, you have the floor.”

I rise from my seat, my hand resting on the jeweled hilt of the Diamond Dagger at my hip. “In the hours after my father was assassinated, I contacted every one of you as a courtesy. I stand before you not as a supplicant seeking approval, but as the rightful heir of Clan Vasari. This gathering, while a courtesy to address your concerns, changes nothing about my position or authority.”

My voice carries across the chamber, firm and unyielding. “The Toronto Seat of Power is mine, as my father intended. Agostino, this stranger who claims our blood, appeared from nowhere with an army of turned vampires and threatened the lives of our young. My father’s death was not a failure of leadership—it was a calculated sacrifice to protect our children and expose our enemies.”

The disgust on many of their faces is a good sign.

“You targeted the clan children?” Talon Erebus asks.

“But they are of your clan,” Lorenzo Valdici says. “What honor is there in threatening children?”

Agostino’s face twists with disdain. “None of the children were harmed. They are fine.”

I scoff. “You infiltrated their home, slaughtered their teacher in front of them, and had your turned brutes hold them prisoner while killing their parents and friends. If you think no harm was done to them, you’re as obtuse as you are cowardly.”

Agostino stands, the legs of his chair scraping across the floor. “Cowardly? How dare you?”

“I dare because you never faced my father like a man, but sent your turned fanger mutts in your stead. I dare because you threatened children instead of proving yourself the stronger man. I dare because you play politics and siphon money and hijack shipments instead of funding your coup with a fortune of your own making. You are a leech.”

“You call that weakness. I call it cunning.”

“And do the other Fondatori agree?” I gesture to the vampire rulers around the table. “Are those the actions of a strong ruler?”

It’s obvious in the frowns and looks of disdain that they find his tactics as unpalatable as I do.

“And in response, I have taken you down at every turn.” I toss a thick folder onto the table and flip open the front cover. Glossy photographs slide onto the polished surface.

“This is me after I shredded the traitor who let you into our compound into unrecognizable bits.” I toss out the gruesome image of me bathed in Benoit’s blood.

“And this is me after I tracked and slaughtered sixty of your tainted-blood mutts.” I toss out a dozen shots of the massacre we left behind in the psychiatric hospital.

“And while Agostino hid behind politics and thievery, I cleaned house and protected our people. I may be young, but I’m the son of Francesco Vasari. My clan. My life. My fucking rule.”

The others around the table are quiet. Some are staring at the photos, some are staring at me, but none of them are looking concerned any longer.

Ashikaga nods slowly. “The law is clear. Zane Vasari is the heir. He holds the dagger, and is the ruler of his clan. Unless any of you have an actual claim to the contrary, the purpose of the meeting has been satisfied.”

“This meeting is a waste of time,” Nikolai growls. “The boy hasn’t proven?—”

“—I’ve proven everything!” I shout, cutting him off. “My father is dead, and this man didn’t even have the balls to look him in the eyes. He’s a parasite and doesn’t deserve to walk in the shadow of Francesco Vasari. What he calls cunning, I call cowardice.”

I point to the photos. “I claimed blood, justice, and victory. I am my father’s son, and I will lead Toronto with the same iron will that made him great. I respect that losing first Heinrich and then my father was a blow, but I won’t be questioned again. I wish you all a good night, but we are finished here.”

I straighten and stride out, with Scottie at my back.

The heavy doors of the sanctuary close behind us with an ominous thud. Scottie’s hand finds mine, squeezing tight.You did well. I’m so proud of you.

I squeeze her hand in response, but it doesn’t help. I’m angry and hurt and I know to the depths of my soul that this isn’t over.

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