The Girl in the Wych Elm (V)

 

 

V. The Girl in the Wych Elm (re-upload)

The High Families’ two-hundred-year-old Reign of Terror became somewhat like a dark canopy over Wych Elm. Hamona Belleweather had manifested that moment since she was ten years old. The day when people would come together in opposition of the High Families. Behind those tears she cried were years of agony and suffering. Hamona was one of two children but the only one who had survived into adulthood. She had an older brother named Hiram who was three years her senior. The love the Belleweather siblings had for one another ran deep.

Tragically, Hiram met a premature end at the tender age of thirteen. His death tremendously impacted the family’s dynamic moving forward. What bothered Hamona the most about Hiram’s untimely passing were the circumstances of his death, which were still shrouded in mystery to that day. She knew from the depths of her soul the High Families were responsible or involved. Alexander was who she pointed her finger at specifically. The trauma of that somber, rainy evening continued to haunt Hamona.

The sheriff at the time was Oberon DeSanguis, Ishmael’s father. He brought the unfortunate news of her brother’s death to the Belleweathers’ doorstep along with Hiram’s lifeless body. Hamona remembered every excruciating detail about that scene as if it had occurred just yesterday. The news of Hiram’s death had drained the color from her father’s face and robbed him of the light in his eyes. His expression of shock and denial morphed into agonized despair. She remembered the sounds of her mother’s shrieks echoing off the walls of their home. How her mother snatched Hiram’s shrouded body from Oberon’s arms and cradled him like he was a newborn baby. She couldn’t forget how Sheriff DeSanguis refused to investigate Hiram’s death any further despite the pleas and grovels from her heartbroken parents. Most of all, Hamona remembered her first and last encounter with Alexander Hightower. She seethed with an indescribable rage as she reflected back on their interaction.

Alexander, accompanied by two guardians, came to her doorstep with flowers and condolences. It seemed like a kind gesture until Hamona noticed the devilish smirk on the teenager’s face. That expression told Hamona everything she needed to know about Hiram’s death. The Belleweather family were just one of countless victims wronged by the High Families. Hiram’s death sent her father to an early grave and left her mother clinically depressed. A year after her brother’s death, Hamona went to his grave and promised she would spend the rest of her life executing Alexander’s downfall on his behalf.

Together with her childhood friends, Fabio Belnades, Elissa and Enzo Monte-Sano, Hamona established the Grand Families as opposition to the High Families. Originally an alliance of three, the Grand Families brought in seven more members: the Rosenheim, Claibourne, Sinclair, and Jirov families. All seven Grand Families came from affluent backgrounds rooted in different business ventures. Hamona's family-owned vineyards and olive groves. The Belnades' owned and operated a large distillery which produced the highest qualities of both wine and olive oil in the region. The Monte-Sanos owned and operated the town’s lumber mill; the Claibournes were fishermen. The Jirovs had a large meat farm and the Sinclairs controlled the Red Light District along with the club and bar within its boundaries. And lastly, the Rosenbaums' were "cleaners." Though wealthy in their own right, the combined wealth of the seven families still paled in comparison to the wealth of even one of the High Families.

Before Fabio had the opportunity to refill Jerome's cup, the man swiftly placed his hand over the glass. He was done drinking for the night. "Thank you, Fabio. Your wine was delicious, but two glasses is all I'm having this evening." Fabio gave a warm smile and slid the wine bottle off to the side. Jerome was never much of a recreational drinker anyways. He disliked substances that clouded his mind, judgement, and thought processes. "I will happily take some bottles home for my wife and sister-in-law.” He jokingly told Fabio the women in his wife’s family drank more wine than fish did water.

"I would too if I were Marie." Fabio replied. "She lives a comfortable life with a hardworking husband who provides for her and loves her deeply.” Jerome thanked the man for his kind-hearted compliment.

Unlike the other six members of the Grand Families, Jerome Jirov was the only member who wasn't native to Wych Elm. His wife and his sister-in-law were, however. Jerome came from abroad as he had an accent. Where Jerome immigrated from originally? The man never disclosed to anyone, not even his own wife. He was a private man and had always been so. Another reason why Jerome didn't consume large amounts of alcohol was because he didn’t want to risk revealing his private life to the wrong people. He trusted Hamona and Fabio wholeheartedly, even considering them his close friends, but Jerome's desire to uphold his privacy outweighed his friendship with the pair. And for a good reason.

People who weren’t born inside Wych Elm were treated as pariahs. They could not be trusted, which was nothing more than a lie spread around town by the High Families. It was just another method of control over the town’s residents to maintain their authority. Outsiders often left quicker than they arrived. Jerome was one of the very few exceptions. He managed to build a successful and comfortable life for himself inside Wych Elm despite the constant discrimination he experienced over the years. As the decade went by, Jerome was treated less and less terribly as his wealth grew. There were, however, some people who still viewed him as an outsider and remained wary of him. The lingering sentiments of the community didn’t bother Jerome as long as they left his family and his business alone.

Fraternal twins, Elissa and Enzo Monte-Sano ceased their bickering the moment they stepped inside the lodge. Hamona rushed to hug her pregnant friend. "I swear your stomach grew two sizes overnight." She giggled, rubbing Elissa's bulging stomach. Elissa was expecting twins, a boy and a girl. Twins were a common occurrence in the Monte-Sano family. Their surname meant, "Mountain of Health."

Elissa placed her hands on top of Hamona's. "Even though I'm dreading the idea of having two newborns at the same time, I'm a little relieved. I'll have a boy and a girl." She smiled with joy. Due to the high likelihood of another set of twins, Elissa and her husband were content with only having two children.

Jerome playfully teased the young mother-to-be. "Your house is going to feel rather empty with only four people." His laughter came from the pits of his stomach.

Enzo rolled his eyes hard. He grabbed the wine bottle and poured a full cup. "Having eight, screaming children running amok in your house sounds like a nightmare.” Jerome was a father to four boys and four girls each two years apart. He had previously expressed interest in having one or two more, having always desired a large family.

Jerome rose to his feet. The large man towered over everyone in the alliance. Despite his intimidating appearance, he was a gentle sweetheart. He walked over to where Elissa and Hamona stood. "May I?" He asked Elissa if he could touch her stomach. She granted permission. "Where I’m from, having many children is a sign of great wealth." Jerome’s eyes shone brightly with excitement; he felt a kick. Elissa remarked how her twins seemed fonder of a stranger than their own uncle.

Enzo made a sour face at his sister. "Well…here in this country, it’s a sign of irresponsibility.” He grumbled, sipping at his drink. The Monte-Sano twins personalities were night and day. Elissa was kind, friendly, and always in an upbeat mood. Her brother Enzo was always snarky, standoffish, and had a pessimistic outlook on a lot of things. Enzo didn’t have many friends compared to his younger twin sister.

Elissa chastised her brother harshly, demanding he apologize to Jerome for his rudeness. “That was uncalled for!” She pushed him.

"I mean, I'm not completely wrong about what I said." Enzo replied, shrugging shamelessly. Elissa huffed with disappointment when her brother refused to apologize. Thankfully, Jerome wasn't offended in the slightest. "See! Jerome's not even mad!" Elissa walked away with Hamona following behind her.

Fabio, who had observed the scene off to the side, couldn’t help but smile with joy. "That's the beauty in the new Wych Elm we're going to establish." He leaned across the table on his elbows. "A society where people are free to criticize and speak their minds without fear of retaliation."

“There’s a thin line between criticism and just being downright rude.” Elissa said under her breath. Hamona was the only one who heard her. The last three Grand Families had arrived. Hector Rosenheim was accompanied by his younger siblings, Samuel and Hannah. Cousins Peter and Marvin Claibourne. Maeve Sinclair and her younger brother Angelo.

The atmosphere in the room became heavy due to Fabio and the Rosenheim siblings. They were the only people he never smiled at. The callous expressions on the faces of Samuel, Fabio, and Hector spoke loud enough without words. The two families hated each other. Fabio could never trust the Rosenheims because they were the “former” childhood friends of Ishmael and Damiano DeSanguis. Hannah even dated Damiano briefly a while back. Hector claimed they had severed their ties with the DeSanguis because of the mistreatment they had suffered over the years. Fabio didn’t buy their words and remained cynical of the family, believing they weren’t who they appeared to be.

Hamona and the others took their claim at face value and welcomed them into the alliance with open arms. The Grand Families believed the Rosenheims were crucial assets to their alliance because of their former proximity to one of the High Families. Fabio was the only member who objected to the Rosenheims' membership, fearing their prior loyalty to the DeSanguis hadn’t all diminished. In the end, he was outnumbered 5 to 1.

“Let’s begin.” Hamona asked everyone to take their seats. The tension in the room subsided a little. “Fabio.” She motioned to him.

Fabio revealed to the table that there were whispers around town about an alleged conspiracy against the High Families. “I think we’re still in the clear right now. No one knows our identities just yet.” Although Fabio suspected there was a mole among the table, he kept the thought to himself. “Remember to be careful. Until our alliance is where we need it to be, we can’t risk exposure.” He proceeded with the next topic. “The Van Dorens have accepted our invitation to join.”

“I’m sorry… What do they do again?” Enzo asked Fabio. Elissa slapped him in the arm. “What?”

“If you’re not going to take this seriously, then don’t bother coming.” She hissed at him.

“The Van Dorens are accountants but not at the minuscule level. They’re accountants for various business conglomerates.” The Van Doren family had long emigrated out of Wych Elm but their connections to the town remained strong even in their absence.

The previous patriarch of the family had made an enemy of the Crimson Hightowers so, the family fled to avoid a similar fate suffered by the Morgenstern family. Many rumors and theories circulated around Wych Elm regarding the Crimson Hightower/Van Doren feud and the latter’s exodus. One rumor stated that Alexander’s predecessor tried to solicit the Van Doren’s clientele list(through intimidation) and was shut down. Then came the theory about an affair between a Hightower woman and a Van Doren man that ended badly and somehow blew up into something bigger. Another rumor that surfaced claimed an important business deal between the two families fell through and the Van Dorens were to blame. That particular rumor, however, was a stretch. The Van Dorens had hated the Hightowers from the beginning and would have never aligned themselves with their enemy for their own benefit.

Maeve Sinclair expressed disapproval of Fabio’s announcement. “Two reasons.” She raised her thumb. "We should keep our table small. Too many members can jeopardize our identities. I mean, you just told us there were rumors swirling around town.” No one challenged her first point. Maeve raised her pointer finger. “For a second, let’s disregard the Aschermann, DeSanguis, and Lightwood families.” The two Hightower families were the ones who really posed the greatest threats and obstacles. They had something the other three families didn’t: connections and allies more powerful than the High Families combined.

Fabio folded his arms. "You’re right, Maeve.” Strength in numbers stood no chance against strength in powerful associates.

Marvin and Peter Claibourne, who seldom spoke up at the meetings, also agreed with Maeve. "I can’t even come up with a counterargument to her point.” Peter commented, looking over at his cousin.

“She’s right and I’m not saying that because she’s my sister. We need powerful people in our corner like the Hightowers if we want to tip the scales of power in our favor.” Angelo added. He then lit a cigarette.

"You are right, Angelo, incredibly." Fabio addressed him. "By the way, something crossed my mind just now. It's in reference to Maeve’s previous statement. The High Families as a unit are a problem, but the Hightowers are the major players that hold the group together." Taking down the Hightowers first would cripple the other three High Families as a consequence.

"We wouldn't even have to waste our time worrying about or dealing with those three." Hamona stated enthusiastically. Half the table nodded in agreement.

"That's true, however, the Hightowers are like an impenetrable fortress. Where would we even start drilling cracks in their foundation?" Enzo scanned the table for an answer, but no one had an immediate one. The question stumped everyone.

Jerome noticed a shift in Maeve’s body language. He sensed she was withholding information from the table and nudged Hamona with his knee, directing with his eyes her attention to Maeve. "Do you have something on your mind, Maeve?" Hamona had no shame when it came to calling someone out at the table. The tense woman sneered back at Hamona.

Fabio and the Rosenheim family weren’t the only parties with internal conflict within the Grand Families. Maeve and Hamona couldn’t tolerate one another either. That was because Maeve’s business primarily involved sex work which disgusted Hamona who saw it as exploitation. She had always vocalized her disdain for it too, regardless of the Sinclair family’s sentiments. However, they never paid Hamona’s remarks any concern because in their eyes, “Hamona was just another privileged rich girl.” The Sinclair siblings weren’t granted the life and comfortable childhoods their peers had. Maeve and Angelo were the children of a prostitute and spent their early years in violent poverty, later turning to sex work like their mother in order to survive. Frowned upon as their business was or seemed, the siblings were proud of how far they came up in the world from the bottom.

As Hamona and Maeve were about to argue, they were interrupted by aggressive pounding at the door. Confused and fearful eyes darted around the table. "Did you invite someone else?" Elissa asked Hamona. She hadn't.

Samuel snorted. "Maybe it was Fabio." He said in a degrading tone. Their hateful eyes fell on each other. "You always act like you’re our leader anyways.” Insulted, Fabio jumped up from his chair.

"I don’t do that, Samuel, and never have.” The man's name hatefully rolled off Fabio’s tongue. "There's no leader here among the Grand Families." He reiterated yet again that the Grand Families were all equal, unlike the High Families. Samuel looked at Fabio doubtfully, crossing his arms.

The pounding persisted. Jerome volunteered to look. "I'll be damned..." His shoulders dropped. Hamona asked who was at the door. Jerome, grim expression and all, turned around slowly. The light in his eyes had faded. "There's Hightowers at the door."

"You’ve got to be shitting me!" Enzo whispered harshly.

The cigarette fell out of Angelo’s hand. He was struck with fear. "What are Hightowers doing here?" The Grand Families thought they had moved with extreme cautious the last two months. Either they hadn't, or the High Families were just that good at uncovering secrets.

Marvin's eyes glanced back and forth between Peter on his right and Fabio across the table. “Should we-should we open the door?” He nervously bit his nails.

While the table whispered among themselves about what to do, Hamona rose up, trembling, and  swallowed the dread built up inside her. The terrified woman lumbered over to the door, inhaled a deep breath, and swung it open to everyone's astonishment. Elias and Victor from the Crimson Hightowers and Dorian and Horatio from the Silver Hightowers stood on their doorstep.

“Someone with sense finally opened the door, I see.” Dorian had been one knock away from kicking in the door all together. He couldn’t stand outside with Victor another minute. Dorian was still bitter at Victor over what he said about him during the clans’ meeting. He wasn’t bothered by Elias, however. Dorian saw him as more of a background character because he typically stayed out of arguments. Victor, on the other hand, was insufferable.

The man fired back at Dorian’s remark. "I'd rather drag my balls across hot asphalt than ever cooperate with you again, dipshit.” He spat the wettest gob of spit on Dorian’s expensive shoes. They were a gift from Solomon. Dorian wanted to murder Victor.

“You son of a b-”

Hamona’s glared hard at the men. “Enough with your aggravating bickering.” Dorian attempted to force his way inside but was pushed back by Hamona. "That wasn't an invitation inside, Dorian Hightower." She said, snarling like an animal pissed off. They could speak from outside the door. Deep down, Hamona Belleweather was utterly terrified. She was always told by her parents to never make enemies of the High Families. Even so, there was no place for fear in any shape moving ahead. Since she and the Grand Families wanted to destroy the High Families, Hamona had to look big. She had to appear fearless as possible.

“She’s about to get us all killed…” Enzo, Peter, and Marvin commented from the table.

Victor looked down at Hamona with hateful eyes. He shoved Dorian aside and pushed against the door, nearly sending Hamona backwards. “Who do you think you’re talking to, wench?” Victor craned his neck in a mechanical-like fashion. He leaned in closer to her face, their noses almost touching. “Y’know what I despise more than Dorian Hightower’s stupid ass? Is a disobedient bitch.” Victor told Hamona how fortunate she was. Had she been his woman, Hamona would have caught a hard backhand to the mouth over disrespecting him.

Jerome placed himself in between Hamona and Victor. He shoved the disrespectful man with all his strength. Were Elias not behind Victor, he would have smacked into the ground. "Watch your mouth, Hightower." Jerome's large hands clenched and unclenched at this sides. He did his best with restraining the urge to punch Victor in the jaw. No man could disrespect any woman in his presence, even a Hightower.

Victor defiantly ran his tongue over his teeth, giving Jerome the same hateful glare he gave Hamona. He was a tree compared to the mountain that Jerome was. "Do your worse, big guy." Victor taunted him. The Jirov meat farm he had worked so hard to establish would be up in flames before dusk. Jerome was warned to tread carefully by Victor. Dorian, crossing his fingers, desperately wanted Jerome to lay Victor out. He would trade his left kidney to witness the scene. The Crimson Hightower man was overdue for some humbling.

Fabio joined his friends at the door. “Hamona asked you a question.” He stood to the left of Hamona. “The hell do you clowns want, especially at this hour?”

“I’ve never known rats to be so mouthy. Feeling a little audacious because of this club, are we now?” Dorian popped his tongue. He demanded to be let inside, only then would he reveal the purpose behind their visit. “Now let us in, you jackass.” Fabio was about to slam the door in their faces until Elias stepped forward. He berated Victor and Dorian over wasting time. That he and Horatio would handle the matter moving onward.

“Just stand over there and shut the hell up.” He barked at Victor. “And you too.” Elias addressed Dorian. “I’m not about to stand here all night because of your egos and your bickering.” He got straight to the point and told the Grand Families the Hightowers were interested in offering one of them a seat within the High Families. The selected family would replace the Morgensterns.

The flabbergasted trio backed away from the door. Victor and Dorian tried to rush in at the same time but became jammed in the doorway. “Dammit! Move, Victor.” Dorian elbowed him in the side.

Victor mushed his face back. “No. You move.” Dorian tripped Victor, and he face-planted into the floor in front of everyone.

Enzo observed the scene with secondhand embarrassment. “I almost shat myself earlier over this nonsense? They should have just sent Ishmael instead of these clowns.” He whispered to the people on either side of him.

Elissa slapped him again. “Save your quips. This isn’t the time.” Regardless of their uncouth behavior, Victor and Dorian were still highborn Hightowers, the equivalent of royalty (by Wych Elm standards).

Victor spewed a barrage of curses at Dorian. “And Elias don’t just stand there like an upright corpse. Help me up!” The other man sighed heavily as he pulled Victor back to his feet. “Now where were we-” He did a double take. “Maeve…Sinclair? You and that dimwitted little brother of yours are also involved in this mutiny?” Victor’s cackle echoed throughout the room. Maeve gave him the finger. “Oh… I can’t wait to run and tell my brother about this.”  Victor tsked, wagging his finger.

“You bas-!” Maeve pulled Angelo back, not wanting him to lunge at Victor. Even Jerome knew better than to escalate physical violence against a Hightower.

“Wait… At the meeting, we were told the Ellingtons were a part of the alliance.” Horatio, perplexed, looked at Elias.

“Horatio, now that I’m thinking about it.” Elias slid a little closer to him. “I had never heard of the Ellington family before that meeting.” Neither had Horatio.

Under the table, Maeve reached for her brother’s hand. She was frightened but also pissed off. Their identities within the Grand Families had been discovered by Alexander’s idiot brother of all people. Ellington was a pseudonym they often used when warranted; Sinclair was too. They had never been given proper last names by their mother and had chosen their own. The name Ellington belonged to their deceased friend whom Maeve and Angelo befriended during their time as sex workers. Tragically, Ellington was brutally murdered by his client, a Hightower, some years ago. Of course, the idiots didn’t recognize his name. People’s lives meant nothing to them.

“Let’s shift back to the topic at hand. The night’s getting away.” The High Families’ offer came with some stipulations which made the Grand Families uneasy. “Whoever we select must agree to sign over 10% share of their business to the High Families.” Horatio referred to the stipulation as a membership fee. The lodge erupted into dissent.

Peter cursed out the men. “You're out of your damn minds. We’re not giving you 10% of shit that we worked hard to build!” Everyone agreed with him. Elias and Horatio held back their snickering. They knew some of the noise was performative because the seat was too good to pass on. Before the night was over, they anticipated visits from some of the Grand Families.

“We’ll give you all until the end of the week to sleep on it.” Victor told everyone.

Hamona squinted at the Hightowers. “And what happens if we refuse?” Dorian and Victor burst into laughter. “It wasn’t a joke.” She growled out.

Victor tapped Hamona on the nose. “But this little club of yours is.” He playfully told the woman how cute she was when she was angry.

Hamona swatted him away. “You can all leave now. Your business here is done.” She pointed outside behind them.

Horatio and Elias were the first ones out the door. “Don’t have to tell us twice.”

“You all have a safe night. We’ll be in touch.” Victor said, blowing Hamona a kiss on his way out. She released a frustrated shrill.

"I fucking hate them!" Hamona kicked the door over and over. Elissa embraced her friend, trying to soothe her down.

“Hamona, take a deep breath.” She told her in a motherly tone. Elissa never liked seeing her friends out of character because of others.

Fabio lingered at the window until the cars disappeared off the property. He had to make sure the Hightowers were gone. Not that the men needed to linger around and eavesdrops anyways; they had lackeys for that.

The group reconvened to discuss the Hightowers' offer but found themselves a table divided over the matter. “They’re trying to create a rift in our alliance.” Hamona said to the table. "No one should take this deal." Elissa, Enzo, and Jerome took her side. If the High Families came between the Grand Families, then Wych Elm would never be free of them.

“Hamona’s right. This deal is an obvious setup. They could have filled the Morgensterns’ seat years ago if they wanted to. So, why now? To snuff out any threats against them.” Enzo said accepting the deal was suicide and he personally wasn’t interested.

The Sinclair, Claibourne, and Rosenheim families were all in favor of the deal which disappointed Hamona. To Fabio, it came as no surprise to him that Ishmael’s and Damiano’s ex-childhood friends voiced their interest. His suspicions of the family became more and more justifiable as the minutes passed.

“Can I have everyone’s ears for a second?” Angelo raised his voice over the commotion. “Why not use this opportunity to our advantage?” The various discussions stopped. “We use this deal as a means to infiltrate their circle. Make them believe there’s no real loyalty among us. If we’re able to gain their trust, then this is how we crack their foundation.” The families who were in favor of the deal supported the idea. Angelo’s argument had even convinced Enzo, who changed his mind.

“I actually agree with Angelo.” The words came straight from Fabio’s mouth. Out of everyone in the room, Hamona was dismayed by Fabio’s response the most. She never expected her closest friend, who prided himself on being integrous, would be swayed by the High Families’ temptation. “Their offer is a trap, but as argued by Angelo, it could be the answer to the problem we’re trying to solve.” Fabio never gambled a day in his life, but he took a chance that evening. “They said only one family can have the seat. So, we need to vote on which family to select on our behalf.” So that the voting process would be fair, nominated families couldn’t vote for themselves. The Grand Families went around the table and chose the family they wanted in the seat.

The members that opted out of the nomination process were Hamona, Jerome, and Fabio. They weren’t interested in proximity to the High Families, Hamona particularly. Her hatred of the High Families outweighed their offer. The Monte-Sano twins, on the other hand, were divided on the matter; Enzo wanted their family nominated while Elissa refused. The Sinclair, Claibourne, and Rosenheims families were the three choices.

Fabio voted, to everyone’s disbelief, for the Rosenheim family. The table was astonished by his decision when he actively expressed at every turn his mistrust for the family. Why would he choose them? Tristan, Hannah, and Samuel gawked at the man. “Now why are you voting for us, Fabio?” Samuel asked. His green eyes seemed to glow with his mood change. Hector followed up, asking Fabio what his deal was.

“I mean, why not?” He innocently shrugged, leaning across the table on his elbows. Fabio told the table the Rosenheims were the best candidates to select. “Think about it. Ishmael knows your family personally. You’re all more likely to win the High Families’ trust over any of us.” Fabio’s argument swayed Hamona, Jerome, the Claibournes, and the Monte-Sanos; they all voted in favor of the Rosenheims. The decision was unanimous.

The verdict left a foul taste in Angelo’s mouth, however. It was his argument that had initially changed everyone’s tune, and the Sinclair family didn’t even receive one single vote. The man felt slighted by the table whom he had come to know as allies. “Wait a fucking minute, Fabio!” His fist slammed against the table, rattling the glass cups. “Maeve and I should have been chosen. This was my idea!” Angelo was enraged over what he perceived as disrespect. He rejected the verdict and argued back.

Peter scoffed at Angelo, calling him a crybaby. Angelo stormed to the other side of the table, confronted Peter, and hemmed him up by the shirt. The man was unfazed by the childish intimidation. “Repeat that one more time, Peter.” He demanded threateningly. Peter might have been an ally, but he wasn’t Angelo’s friend and wasn’t above assaulting the Claibourne man.

“I say this with every bit of disrespect, Angelo. You’re the last person anyone at this table would have ever chosen.” He chortled without fear in Angelo’s face. “If you weren’t around, maybe the Sinclair family would have had a chance.” Peter finished his statement by calling Angelo a hot-headed punk.

Angelo nearly combusted from the anger boiling inside of him. “You bit-” Jerome grabbed Angelo’s wrist before he could hit Peter. He snapped at the larger man, demanding he let go.

“I could, but then you would only be proving Peter right.” No matter how much Angelo struggled against Jerome’s hold, he couldn’t free his wrist. “Sit down now, Angelo.” Jerome told the younger man as if he were one of his four sons.

“You ain’t my father!” Angelo snatched his wrist away. “So don’t act like it.” He barked at Jerome, throwing curses at him. The heavy man was unbothered by the obscenities. He wasn’t intimidated by Angelo. Instead, Jerome felt sympathy for him. He and Maeve had been robbed of love from parents. From his view, Angelo was a lost boy in need of guidance.

“Well, someone needs to.” The response sent Angelo further over the edge. He reached into his pocket for his switchblade.

Maeve stood. “Angelo, we’re leaving.” Hamona said they hadn’t adjourned yet. “And there will be other meetings.” Maeve told everyone she had to get back to her club. The business day was long over for everyone else there, but for the Sinclairs, it was about to start. Before departing with his sister, Angelo spat at Jerome’s feet; his final act of contempt for the man. Fabio announced it was best to adjourn for the night.

"You're coming to Sunday dinner, yes?" Elissa asked Hamona with bright, eager eyes. The pregnant woman was helped into the passenger's seat by Jerome. Sunday dinners at the Monte-Sano home had been a weekly tradition for Hamona since she was twelve. The love, warmth, and laughter that once filled her home died along with her brother. Hamona spent the rest of her adolescent and teenager years in and out of the Belnades and Monte-Sano homes to escape the misery and depression that haunted hers. She confirmed, to Elissa's delight, that she would be there like always. "I'll see you Sunday then. I'll make sure mama makes her peach cobbler that you love." Elissa then wished her friends safe travels home before she and Enzo drove off.

Fabio, Hamona, and Jerome remained behind and watched the others leave. "You've spent the last two months mistrustful of the Rosenbaum family and yet, you nominate them for the High Families’ seat?" Hamona demanded to know why that was when she had expected the opposite response from Fabio.

He replied, "To test their loyalty to the Grand Families." His distrust of the Rosenheim family had never subsided, only intensified. Fabio saw the perfect opportunity to prove his suspicions were not out of simple pettiness or secret jealousy.

Fabio’s answer disappointed Jerome and Hamona. “Really, Fabio? You still have energy for this?” Hamona called it an obsession. “Give them some grace.” She believed that under the right conditions people’s loyalties could change.

"I have to agree with Hamona, friend." Jerome gave Fabio’s shoulder a light squeeze. “This vendetta is looking rather pitiful on your part.” He also told Fabio to have some faith in the alliance’s members.  

Fabio removed Jerome’s hand. “I’m all out of faith.” All he wanted was cold, definite proof. If Fabio was wrong about the Rosenheims, he would happily apologize and admit it. He told Jerome and Hamona he would no longer discuss the matter with them because they wouldn’t understand. The situation wasn’t about a simple right vs wrong. It was about protecting their alliance. It was about weeding out would-be traitors. It was about staying true to their cause: a Wych Elm free of the High Families.

 

Maeve hated when people, even her own brother, saw her cry. She would suppress her tears as long as she could until she was alone.  After Victor had seen them, she had been dying to get out of that lodge. The moment Angelo drove off the terrified woman released her bottled emotions. Maeve wasn’t afraid of Victor, Dorian, or even Ishmael. Not even Solomon scared her. The one person in all of Wych Elm whom Maeve feared was Alexander. She had experienced his wrath firsthand before. When angered, Alexander became something worse than a monster. Maeve trembled as she thought about that emotionally scarring incident. She always prayed she would never again experience that horror.

"We're going to see the Hightowers,” was Angelo’s statement that should have been a question. Maeve’s response wasn’t immediate. She instead pondered on the words as Angelo drove on.  

When her mind was made up, Maeve’s response was simple. “Yes, we are.” Angelo nodded. He signaled left, driving in the opposite direction of their Red-Light District. The following words from Angelo’s mouth were an actual question that time.

Crimson or Silver?