It was only later that I learned Giorgio had been accompanying Silvia to social events—sit-downs disguised as charity galas, alliance meetings wrapped in silk and champagne. He shielded her from every unnecessary inconvenience, playing the role of a polished and loyal heir apparent to the Corleone name.
In that moment, I finally understood that what existed between us had never been trust, but a transaction. The so-called union was merely a tool he used to maintain order between our Families. Legal documents, blood oaths, shared history—all of it was nothing more than a carefully wrapped set of restraints.
This was not just an emotional betrayal. It was a precise and ruthless settlement.
He had already begun clearing the way for her, preparing to place her at the front, to let her become the Family's accepted presence at his side. And I would be quietly pushed aside, like an old account already closed. When he needed me, I existed. When he did not, I became surplus.
I had no intention of waiting any longer.
If this territory offered only such an ending, then I would rather vanish from its map altogether.
That night, I went alone to the harbor district to meet Hector 'The Gray' Santini.