The Dancer and the Don | ✔️

Chapter 10

"Gee, thanks," she said sarcastically. She picked up her dishes off the floor and began to walk towards the kitchen. He aimlessly followed her, clenching his fists so he wouldn't reach out and grab her.

"If you'd just let me explain," he muttered as she turned the water on and scrubbed roughly at the plate. Fran ignored him, trying to drown out the ringing in her ears. Maybe I'm going into shock, she thought to herself. She chuckled humorlessly.

"Fran, we only had pasta for dinner, it shouldn't be that hard to scrub it off," he was only growing more and more worried. She'd accidentally hurt herself at this rate.

"Jesus, Tony, now I can't even scrub a plate correctly?"

"Now you're just picking a fight with me, Fran. All I want to do is explain."

"You should have explained this before you married me, Tony," Fran murmured and put the plate aside to dry.

"Sir," Tony whipped around to see Tate standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a few papers in his hand.

"How important is it, Tate?" Tony didn't have time for this, but recognized something could be seriously wrong.

"Eight point three." Shit. Tony would have to go speak with Tate and a few other members of his family.

"Bring them here. She knows everything." Both Tate and Francesca's eyes widened at his command. It was a risky move for Tony, but things couldn't get any worse. This would be a chance he would have to take.

"Yes sir," Tate was quick to leave the room filled with tension, and Tony motioned for Fran to take a seat.

"Look, Tony, I—"

"You wanted to know everything, Fran. This is it." He didn't know how he wanted to tell her everything. This could be a big step in helping.

Fran sat down without another word and tried to look confident. Her energy was slowly waining, and she wondered exactly how much Tony had been keeping from her. Fear took over her body that love wouldn't be enough to save their marriage.

"Sir," multiple men said at once as they entered the dining room. Fran felt shivers run down her spine. So many strange men were in her house now, but had they been here the whole time? She felt sick.

"Sit, please," Tony said quietly, "this is my wife, Francesca. Fran, these men are apart of my family." Family. The word was beginning to become a trigger for her. She gave a curt nod to the men but kept her eyes down. They began to talk around her but all she could think of was how to get out of here.

No! Be strong, this is your house!

Slowly Fran lifted her chin to look at her surroundings. Tony, Tate, and three other men all sat around the dining table. Clad in suits they all wore solemn expressions on their faces as they spoke in hushed tones.

"Speak louder, please." Her hand twitched, craving to cover her mouth after she spoke. The three strange men looked at her incredulously and she fought to keep her confidence. Their gazes switched towards Tony who glared back at them.

"You heard her. Speak louder." Their gazes lowered and Fran felt pride flow through her veins. She scowled. How could she be proud of her husband that had lied to her all throughout their relationship?

"Was there any warning?" Tony asked.

"Start over. I didn't hear the beginning." Fran was feeling confident once again. One man sighed and folded his arms across his chest. She was in a position to make whatever demands she wanted, and intended to take full advantage of that.

"There was an attack on one of our bases in Michigan, four men were killed. There was no warning, nor was there any evidence as to who did it except a green flag," the man said, exasperated.

Tony sat back with a sigh. It felt like his entire world was collapsing right in front of his eyes. His wife wanted to leave him and his men were being killed left and right. There didn't seem to be a way out of this situation, but he was willing to die trying to find it.

"Sangue Verde did this, sir, and we need your permission to proceed." The room was silent for about a minute before Fran was able to gather even more courage to speak yet again.

"Proceed with what?" Tony's eyes were the only ones that made contact with hers. She felt alone in her own house.

"Funerals and counterattacks, Fran."

"Are you joking? How can you even mention those words in the same sentence?"

"You wanted me to be honest, Fran. This is me being honest." It was as honest he could be right now. He feared if he told her too much at once she'd walk out the door and right into danger. He would do his best to not let that happen.

"That won't be happening, Tony. Dismiss them." When Tony made eye contact with Fran, his eyes widened at the intensity behind her big brown eyes.

"You have the same power I do, Fran. If you want them dismissed, do it yourself." He was testing her. She would either back down in fear and listen to them continue, or she would be herself and dismiss them.

"Get out. Now."

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