Chapter 5 THE WILL

The Ricci mansion was reflected against the night sky, its windows blazing with light despite the hour. Black luxury vehicles lined the curved driveway, with their drivers standing at attention beside them. Word spread quickly in their environment, particularly news of bloodshed.

Sophia sat in her car, her father's signet ring resting in her palm. Three hours had gone since she discovered Antonio dying on the restaurant floor, his blood oozing between her fingers as she cradled him. The police questioning had been brutal-Detective Carter was convinced that her family's less legitimate organizations were responsible for the hit. But he had no proof, just theories.

She placed the ring onto her thumb, the only finger large enough to accommodate it. The metal remained heated As if she were holding some lingering element of her father. Her thumb sketched the Ricci family insignia, a lion wearing a crown.

Only blood can lead.

Sophia exited from her car, taking a calm breath and ignoring the comments that followed her to the front door. Her father's blood remained soiled her blouse beneath her jacket, which she hadn't tried to cover. Allow them to see what has been done. Let them remember.

Marco, her father's long-term doorman, opened the enormous oak door with red-rimmed eyes. "Miss Sophia," he said, bowing slightly. "They're waiting in the great hall."

"Who called this meeting?" she inquired, her voice calm despite the weariness gripping her bones.

"Mr Vincent, Miss. "They said it was protocol when the Don..." His voice cracked.

Of course. Her uncle did not spend any time positioning himself. Sophia straightened her shoulders and entered the mansion that had once been her childhood home but was now a gathering spot for vultures.

The huge hall hummed with anxious talk, which faded as she approached. Black-clad figures turned toward her, including cops, soldiers, and family members. Uncle Vincent stood in the center of the room, his huge body dressed immaculately despite the late hour. When he saw her, his countenance of profound anguish changed slightly-a tightness around the eyes, a flicker of something territorial.

"Sophia," he approached her, arms extending in a gesture of familial warmth. "You should be resting, not dealing with business tonight."

"She avoided his embrace"What business, exactly, couldn't wait until my father's body was cold?"

Her words echoed around the silent room. Several of the senior capos exchanged glances, assessing her.

Vincent's smile dimmed. "Antonio would want us to protect the family's interests right away. "These first hours are critical." He motioned to the exquisite seats arranged in a loose semicircle. "Dominick is on his way with Antonio's lawyer. Certain..." he hesitated, selecting his words carefully, "contingencies must be handled."

Sophia surveyed the expressions of everyone observing this discussion. Some people appeared to be in genuine grief. Others calculated and assessed. Her attention fell on her cousin, Bianca, who was standing near the fireplace. Bianca gave a small nod, expressing solidarity in this room full of predators.

"I need to change first," Sophia murmured, staring at her blood-stained garments.

Vincent nodded graciously. "Of course." "Your old room is exactly as you left it."

She approached the huge staircase, aware that thousands of eyes were monitoring her every step. The east wing, where her bedroom had been, remained eerily unchanged-a museum of her previous life. Inside her room, designer clothes hung in the closet, many with tags-her father's constant optimism that she would return to the fold.

The irony was not lost on her as she chose a black garment suitable for both sadness and power. As she changed, the paper containing her father's farewell letter appeared to burn through her handbag.

The ledger is the key.Trust no one

As it the ledger he showed her yesterday that got him killed? And who could she trust, given her father's parting instruction to never trust anyone?

When she returned downstairs, the crowd had expanded. Dominick Verona, her father's consigliere and attorney for the past thirty years, had arrived. His normally impeccable appearance was unkempt, and his tie was skewed. His son, Alberto, followed him, carrying a leather bag.

"Sophia," Dominick embraced her, sadness engraved on every feature of his face. "I arrived as soon as I heard. "I was in court when..." His voice wavered. "

The police are calling it a professional hit," she explained gently.

Dominick's eyes darkened. "Carter?"

She nodded. "He seemed particularly interested in where I was when it happened."

He's been trying to build a RICO case against your father for years." Dominick's voice fell. "We'll handle him."

Before she could speak, Uncle Vincent cleared his throat loudly. "Now that everyone's here, perhaps we can proceed with the necessary business."

Dominick stiffened beside her and nodded. "Yes, of course." He turned to face the assembled family members and associates. "Antonio made precautions in the case of his... premature death. "His will is very specific."

Vincent stepped forward. "As his brother and underboss, I advise we act fast to ensure leadership continuity.The other families will be looking for any indication of weakness."

"That's precisely why Antonio's instructions must be followed to the letter," Dominick answered, taking the briefcase from his son and placing it on Sophia's grandfather's antique desk. "The will includes specific succession instructions."

Vincent smiled boldly. "Then let's make it official."

Sophia paid close attention to her uncle. His trust appeared absolute, which contradicted her father's admissions about his preparations for her to take over yesterday. Unless... Antonio never amended his will following their chat. Or maybe he was lying to her?

Dominick took out a thick envelope sealed with the Ricci family insignia in wax. "This will was amended three months ago, as witnessed by myself and Judge Romano. It superseded all prior versions."

The entire room held its breath as Dominick broke the seal and pulled several pages of formal legal documents. He cleared his throat and began to read.

"I, Antonio Marco Ricci, being of sound mind, do hereby bequeath my assets to be distributed as follows..."

Sophia only half-listened as Dominick enumerated the different properties, investments, and goods left to family members. She inherits her mother's jewelry collection. Bianca has a villa in Sicily. Generous trusts for several relatives and godchildren.

Vincent shifted impatiently. "Skip to the relevant sections, Dominick."

The consigliere arched an eyebrow and turned over many pages. "Regarding the management and control of all Ricci family business interests, both legitimate and otherwise," he said, his voice echoing through the quiet room. "I hereby name as my sole successor and heir to my position as head of the Ricci organization..."

Vincent moved forward slightly, adjusting his jacket.

"...my daughter, Sophia Elena Ricci.

The silence shattered into a cacophony of voices. Vincent's expression shifted from cocky assurance to resounding surprise.

"This is outrageous!" he said, stalking towards Dominick. "Let me see that!" He took the document, examining it frantically. "There must be some mistake."

"There's no mistake, Vincent," Dominick stated calmly, recovering the will. "Antonio was quite clear. Sophia is his designated successor. "

A woman?" Paolo, one of the senior capos, spat. "Other families will never respect us. "We will lose everything!" Another voice exclaimed, "She knows nothing about our operations!"

"She's been hiding in a university while we've been doing the real work!" replied another."

Vincent's amazement swiftly turned to premeditated indignation. "This is absurd!" Antonio must have been coerced. Or is this document a forgery?" He stared accusingly at Dominick

. "The will bears your brother's signature and personal seal," Dominick explained coldly. "Judge Romano can verify its authenticity, as can I."

"And since when does a professor know how to run our business?" Vincent demanded, turning to Sophia. "Do you even understand our territorial boundaries? Our arrangements with other families? Are the police officers on our payroll?

Sophia felt like every eye in the room was on her. Her academic credentials were irrelevant here. In this world, respect was earned via knowledge, power, and ruthlessness. Before her father's discoveries yesterday, she may have agreed with Vincent. But now...

The North Side territory extends from Belmont Avenue to Howard Street," she explained gently. "Our agreement with the Gambino family grants us exclusive access to shipping contracts through Calumet Harbor in exchange for distribution through our transportation businesses. As for police on the payroll..." She locked eyes with her uncle. "Perhaps we shouldn't discuss that particular list in mixed company."

A stunned silence greeted her comments. Even Vincent temporarily lost his cool.

Bianca walked forward from the fireplace, a little smile on her lips. "My cousin knows more than she lets on, it seems."

"A few memorized facts don't qualify her to lead," Vincent replied immediately. "Experience matters. Respect does. I've been standing at Antonio's right hand for twenty years, while she played professor!"

Yet Antonio chose her," Dominick added. "And his will is legally binding."

"We're not talking about legalities!" Vincent snarled. "We are talking about survival! The Salvatores will perceive this as a weakness. They'll be on our territory before Antonio is even in the ground!"

Several capos whispered their agreement.

She spoke through the din. "My father was gunned down hours ago," she said. "The execution took place at his restaurant. Perhaps, before we argue over who sits in his chair, we should think about who wanted him out."

Her words stunned the room once more.

"The Salvatores," Vincent said bluntly. "Who else?"

"Convenient timing, wouldn't you say?" Sophia kept her tone neutral. "Father revealed his succession plans to me yesterday, and now he's dead. Before he could openly proclaim his decision.

Vincent's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What exactly are you implying?"

"I'm not implying anything," Sophia replied, meeting his stare unflinchingly. "I'm only making an observation ."Someone did not like them."

"Do you suppose that someone was me? "Your blood?" Vincent's voice lowered to a deadly whisper. "I loved my brother."

"Yet you seem eager to take his place."

The tension in the room sparked like live electricity. Vincent's hand jerked toward his jacket, where Sophia knew he kept a revolver before he controlled himself.

"You have no idea what you're walking into, little girl," said the father.

"No idea at all."

Before she could react, Marco appeared at the door. Excuse me. There is a police detective at the front gate. Says he needs to speak with Miss Ricci right away."

Vincent's countenance instantly changed from wrath to calm control. "What about the police? Now? Tell him we're gathering as a family to grieve our loss. She will speak to him tomorrow."

"I specifically instructed him to come," Sophia replied quietly. "Let him in, Marco."

Vincent approached, dropping his voice. "Are you insane?" "Bringing cops here tonight, of all nights?"

Detective Carter was first on the scene," she explained. "He has questions concerning my father's death, which I'd like to address right away. Unless you choose to wait for an official investigation?"

The menace lingered in the air between them. Vincent's eyes reddened with barely held rage, but he nodded stiffly at Marco.

Minutes later, Detective Liam Carter walked into the grand hall, his presence like a stone dropped into still water. Uncomfortable ripples spread among the assembled family members.The detective's piercing eyes scanned the crowd, lingering briefly on specific faces before finding Sophia.

"Miss Ricci, thank you for seeing me." His tone was professional yet suspicious. "I apologize for interrupting your family's grieving, but there are some inconsistencies in the witness statements that I hoped to clear up."

"Of course, Detective," Sophia responded. "We're all eager to help find my father's killers."

"Perhaps we could speak somewhere more private?" Carter offered, his gaze moving significantly across the assembled family members.

"You can ask my niece anything in front of the family members. "Anything you need to ask my niece, you can ask in front of the family," Vincent said effortlessly. "We have no secrets here."

Carter raised his eyebrow slightly. "Is that correct, Mr. Ricci?" Because, according to our preliminary findings, secrets appear to be the one thing your family has in excess.

A frightening stillness descended upon the room.

"My father's study would be appropriate," Sophia murmured, disregarding Vincent's stare. "Detective, this way please."

As she walked Carter through the mansion, she felt Vincent's gaze burn into her back. Her uncle would not tolerate this challenge to his power. The will designating her as successor had thrown everything into disarray, just when the family needed stability the most.

Sophia motioned for the investigator to take a seat in Antonio's study, the same area where he had just divulged his secrets to her. "What inconsistencies were you referring to, Detective?"

Carter remained standing with his hands in his pockets. "For starters, consider the time of your attack. Your father's appointment with the Salvatore family was scheduled for 8 p.m. at Bellissimo, but he was at Famiglia instead. "Why the change of venue?"

"I wondered the same thing," Sophia said. "They told me to meet at Bellissimo. "When I arrived, the Salvatores were not present."

"Convenient that you weren't present when the shooting occurred," Carter remarked.

"Are you accusing me of something?"

Just noting the timing." Carter moved slowly around the room, studying the images on the walls. "Your father had an important meeting that required him to change sites at the last minute. Someone he trusted enough to scale back his security detail. He turned to confront her immediately. "Who would that be, Ms. Ricci?"

Before she could respond, the study door opened. Vincent entered without knocking, quickly followed by Dominick.

"Detective, I must insist that you schedule a formal interview if you have any further questions," Dominic said firmly. "The family has just learned of Antonio's passing and needs time to process this tragedy."

Carter appeared unperturbed by the interruption. "Of course, Mr. Verona." "I was just telling Ms. Ricci that we discovered something interesting at the crime scene."He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a little evidence bag. Inside was a silver button with an elegant coat of arms. "This does not match your father's or his bodyguards' clothing." Do you have any idea who it belongs to?

Sophia looked at the button, her blood flowing cold. She recognized the crest right away-any member of their world would.

The Salvatore family emblem.

Vincent's face stiffened. "Where exactly did you find this?"

"Clutched in Antonio Ricci's hand," Carter explained quietly. "Almost as if he pulled it from his killer's clothing during the struggle."

The implication hung in the air, like a death sentence. If the Salvatores had ordered the hit, it amounted to a declaration of war."

Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Detective," Dominic stated calmly. "We'll be sure to contact you if we think of anything that might help your investigation."

Carter's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm sure you will." He turned to Sophia. "Ms. Ricci, I need a formal statement from you tomorrow. In the meantime," he handed her his card, "contact me if you recall anything else about your father's actions today." Anything at all.

After the detective had left, Vincent approached Sophia, his voice a deadly whisper. "This doesn't change anything. "The family requires experienced leadership now more than ever."

"The will says otherwise," she explained gently. "

A piece of paper won't protect you from what's coming," Vincent growled. "The Salvatores made their move. War is inevitable ."

Or perhaps someone wants us to think the Salvatores are responsible," says Sophia. "Someone who benefits from chaos."

Vincent's eyes flashed. "You are playing a deadly game, niece. One you are not prepared to win."

"That's where you're wrong, Uncle." Sophia clasped her palm around her father's signet ring. "My father prepared me for this moment, whether I knew it or not." "Then prove it," he said. "The capos are waiting for the leader. Tell them how you, a university professor with little street experience, intend to respond to Antonio's murder.

Sophia moved passed him to the door. "Let's find out."

When they returned to the Great Hall, all eyes were on them. The anxiety at the conference was apparent, with decisions weighing heavily on the fate of the Ricci empire.

Bianca moved to Sophia's side, a silent display of support that was not overlooked by the others. Dominick stood nearby, his expression is cautiously neutral.

"The detective found evidence linking my father's murder to the Salvatore family," Sophia declared, her voice stronger than she felt. "A button with their crest was found in his hand."

Murmurs spread around the room like wildfire.

"We need to hit back hard," Paolo stated. "Send a message."

"Immediately," another capo concurred. "Before they think us weak."

Vincent stepped forward. "I advocate a deliberate strike against their shipping interests. It's where they're most vulnerable, and we can make it appear like a typical hijacking.

A few heads nodded in accord. Despite the will's pronouncement, Vincent already commanded the room and established himself as the de facto leader.

Sophia looked around at these men-killers and criminals who had loyally served her father for decades. Men who now regarded her with suspicion, dismissal, or plain contempt. Men are waiting for her to fail.

Her gaze shifted to the large portrait of her grandfather that dominated the wall above the fireplace. The first Ricci to establish authority in Chicago. His gaze appeared to follow her, assessing her worthiness.

Only blood can lead.

"No," she stated simply.

All conversation stopped "No?"

Vincent responded incredulously. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean, we do not retaliate. "Not yet." She moved to the center of the room, causing everyone to look at her. "My father was executed hours ago, and we already have convenient proof that points to his killer? "It's too clean."

"You think the button was planted?" Dominick questioned, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I think someone wants us to march straight into war with the Salvatores," Sophia said to him. "Someone who benefits from chaos on both sides."

"This is cowardice," Vincent said. "Antonio would never hesitate to avenge a direct attack."

"My father," she said possessively, "was a chess player, not a street brawler." He showed me how to read the board before moving my pieces.

She turned to face the full room. "We shall honor my father with burial rites appropriate to his position. We will demonstrate strength via unity and discipline. And we'll do our research before spilling a single drop of blood."

"And if the Salvatores sense weakness?" Paolo challenged. "If they move against us again?"

Sophia met his stare unwaveringly. "Then we respond with such overwhelming force that no family in Chicago will dare move against the Ricci name for a generation."

A heavy stillness descended upon the room. She could feel them measuring her and recalculating assumptions.

"My father chose me as his successor," she explained, pulling power from the ring on her thumb. "Not because I am his daughter, but because I see what others don't. The button is overly obvious. This entire scenario-separating me from my father, the professional hit, the convenient evidence-was arranged by someone who understands our world thoroughly."

"You're suggesting an inside job?" Dominick asked quietly.

"I'm suggesting we don't trust anyone until we know everything," Sophia said, echoing her father's final caution. "Starting tonight."

She looked at Vincent, whose countenance had settled into something inscrutable. "Uncle, I will require full access to all family business records. Immediately.

"A flicker of something-concern? fear?-crossed his face before fading beneath a mask of grudging reverence. "As you wish."

"The rest of you," she told the capos, "will continue operations as usual." No one advances against the Salvatores without my explicit permission. "No exceptions."

She sensed resistance in the room, as much as a reluctant interest. Perhaps Antonio's daughter inherited more than his name.

As the meeting ended, Vincent approached her one last time. "You've bought yourself some time with those kind words, niece. But words will not protect this family once the blood begins to flow."

"No," Sophia stated coldly. "However, information will. And I plan to have plenty of it before making my next move."

Vincent observed her for a long time. "Perhaps Antonio saw something in you after all," he admitted finally. "But understand this: in our world, respect is not given. It's taken. Sometimes with force." "I'm well aware," she said. "That is why I have asked Dominick to audit the family accounts first thing tomorrow morning. Begin with those under your direct control."

Vincent's face stiffened. "You dare question my loyalty?"

"I dare to question everyone," Sophia murmured, holding his eyes intently. "Just as my father taught me."

With that, she turned away, marking the end of their conversation. As family members exited the great hall, Bianca approached, linking her arm with Sophia's.

"That was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid," her cousin remarked. "Vincent will not forgive being challenged publicly .

"I'm not looking for forgiveness," Sophia responded. "I'm looking for answers."

"Be careful," Bianca cautioned. "Our accountant Franco was the last person to conduct an in-depth investigation into family finances. "He disappeared three months ago."

She turned swiftly. "What?"

"Vincent said he embezzled funds and fled to Argentina," Bianca explained. "But Franco had been faithful for decades. "It never made sense."

Another piece of the puzzle fit into place. Three months ago, Antonio amended his will.

Before she could answer, her phone vibrated with a text message from an unknown number:

It's not safe to chat in the mansion. Your father maintained a second set of books. Storage unit 273 on Lincoln Avenue. Code: Sophia's birthday. Come alone. A friend.

Sophia looked at the message, her heart beating. A second set of books could explain everything-who wanted her father dead, who was betraying the family, and possibly even why Antonio chose her as his successor.

However, it could also be a trap

Trust no one.

Her father's admonition rang through her head as she deleted the message. Whoever had sent it was aware of both the concealed financial records and her father's trust in her. But was it a friend reaching out, or was it an enemy attempting to draw her into the open?

Tomorrow, she should find out-alone.