The first stop was one destined to make the trip even longer. Sofia Medina was Gianna’s youngest daughter, and the only one of them Stefania came close to respecting. Phillippe was a musician without a home of his own and who knows how many bastards, and Maria an aging party monster. They’d find their own ways to the Valentino residence.

Sofia was not a killer. She was the type to take the path of least resistance instead of fighting for what she wanted. Unlike her siblings, she was successful and her business was one of the few neutral places for the Medinas to meet. All across the countryside and outside of every major town within a hundred miles, her inns provided a welcome respite from travel. It was to one of these they stopped.

“Stefania, darling, you look incredible!” Sofia waddled forward away from the building. She was a comfortably plump woman wearing an extravagant fur coat too good for the area. For someone who couldn’t fight or run away, it meant relying on a nearby bodyguard at all times. Today, Stefania would be that bodyguard.

“Sofia,” Stefania returned, tolerating her cousin’s sweaty embrace. “You look…Like you. Not many people would wear fur in August.”

“Not many people understand how important it is to look this good,” Sofia laughed, fluffing her coat up. “You, of course, are one of them. Not many women can wear men’s clothes and own it.”

Stefania smiled. As much as she would’ve loved a dress to wear for a real party, a nice men’s jacket could hide so much. The fact that it would cause a stir among her more conservative relatives was a pleasant bonus.

“Think it will upset Valentino’s oh so precious sense of propriety and image?”

Sofia giggled. “Why Stefania, are you trying to cause trouble?”

Stefania bared her teeth. “Always.”

“Is that why your boys aren’t here?” Sofia craned her head to get a better look at Stefania’s entourage. She had a couple dozen men at arms, laden with swords and single shot pistols. They carried her version of the Medina banner, a tree with a skull in the center of it. Her grandfather’s skull, though no one ever bothered to ask.

“Among other reasons,” said Stefania. The anger jumped inside her, gnashing its teeth and demanding she let it out. She swallowed it down. “Until I know what Valentino’s up to, I thought it best to spare my boys the headache. Are you ready to go?”

“Almost! Just one second and I’ll be good,” she said, once more eyeing Stefania’s men. Bowing graciously, she disappeared back into the enormous inn, letting out a landslide of laughter and music.

It took another fifteen minutes and the rest of Stefania’s dwindling patience before Sofia emerged once more, laughing and with a flush to her face. The smell of wine reached her cousin before she did.

“Thank you so much for your patience, had to leave a quick message. Shall we?” She climbed up on the wagon full of wine and luxuries Stefania brought.

The ride to Valentino’s estate could’ve been worse. Sofia talked the entire time, trampling on Stefania’s already frayed nerves. Her cousin and her siblings were easily the most socially adept of the Medina brood, and it was something to marvel at as the hours melted away and Sofia’s booming voice had their honor guard ride a little further out to be away from the noise.

Stefania eventually managed to tune her out and go over the plans once more. She had enough men with her to handle themselves and protect her, and her spies and moles would handle the rest. No doubt Valentino would have tricks of his own, but he wasn’t the type to get his own hands dirty. When she struck first, it would be decisive and end it.

“Hey. HEY! Can I ask you something?” Sofia shook her from her thoughts.

“What?” Stefania asked, not looking at her cousin as she urged her horse onward. They were at the edges of Valentino’s estate now, with the sun almost down. It was maybe another thirty minutes to the house, and the wild countryside now turned into carefully groomed gardens and a solid road.

“Why do you hate me and my siblings so much?” Sofia sounded hurt.

“What are you talking about?” Stefania scoffed. “I don’t hate you. Who do you think has provided for you all these years? Who has kept you protected from Valentino and Lorenzo and their wretched brood?”

“But you look down on me,” she insisted. “You’ve never been shy about showing that. You look down on me and my siblings and have only ever cared for us begrudgingly, because your mother did. Why?”

“Why?” The anger Stefania had been nursing all day boiled over. “Why? Maria is a common whore, past her best days. She’ll never stop sucking the teat she’s provided, even after it’s dry. Phillippe is fine when he’s off on one of his year long excursions, when there’s the hope he’ll never come back. Because when he does, it’s always with his hand out for help starting over.”

“And me?”

“You…” The Medina heir took a long, deep breath. “You’re the only one worth anything from your family. You and Roberto work hard enough, but you run common inns. It’s beneath the Medina name. Your children grew up in the same shit that produced Roberto, who is a drunken bore. I don’t hate you, Sofia. I just don’t think of you if I don’t have to.”

They rode in silence for a little longer. Hints of guilt gnawed at Stefania, but she let her cousin stew in her contempt. With everything going on, there was no room to worry for anyone’s feelings.

“I always liked you, you know. I always looked up to you. You were always so strong, so fierce, so decisive.” Sofia sighed. “It hurts to know that you always looked down on us. But when the dust clears and the rest of you lose control and kill each other, I’ll be there to pick up the slack.”

It didn’t sound like a threat so much as a sad, resigned statement. Stefania didn’t answer, save to spit on the ground in front of the wagon. With a shout she jabbed her heels into her horse’s sides. She left her cousin behind and went up to the looming house.

Valentino had based everything off the ancestral Medina home, now divided and sold off. Everything from the sprawling house and surrounding countryside was meant to evoke the feeling of the house of Geovanni. It was his little way of proclaiming himself the true heir. Stefania would’ve rolled her eyes, but seeing an almost identical fencing yard surrounded by topiary animals made her heart skip a beat.

It was so easy to seethe and let her anger try to talk her out of what she was about to do, but the familiarity got to her. She blinked tears out of her eyes, wondering for a moment if she maybe wasn’t wrong about everything. Then a runner brought Valentino out, running everything.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Beloved cousin, welcome!” Valentino cried out, coming up the drive to meet her. He wore expensive silks and had an obnoxiously large hat that Giovanni had mocked more than once during their night time chats. “I had feared you wouldn’t show. Everyone’s waiting for you and Sofia.”

“She’ll be along eventually,” Stefania said, unsmiling. Valentino didn’t look like a dangerous, untrustworthy man. He looked like a new money fop, all extravagance with zero substance. Everything from his beard and curly mustache to the rings on his hands were carefully chosen to evoke lavish wealth. She hated it. “You look soft, cousin.”

Valentino’s eye twitched, but he laughed. “The joys of success, Stefania. With any luck, softness comes for us all and we pass on the torch to the next generation.”

He looked about ready to her. He was in his mid fifties and seemed healthy enough, but his best days were behind him, and Stefania was in her prime. She climbed off her horse and went right up to him, looking her cousin up and down.

“Well,” she said with a smirk, “it seems you were born successful and never have known hardship. And clearly it’s working for you. A lovely home you have.” Pity if something happened to it.

“Thank you,” said Valentino, bowing graciously. “Shall we go inside? Dinner is almost ready. Someone can take your coat. Perhaps find you a nice, appropriate dress for you to wear.”

“Oh, Valentino,” said Stefania, patting his cheek like she would a child. “I’ll wear a dress when you do.” She headed inside, forcing him to choose between following her or waiting for Sofia.

Nerves attacked, making every shadow leap out and every armed man a threat. Valentino’s house had enough of a guard to match her men, if it came down to it, but so far no one attacked her. The inside looked like a well decorated mausoleum, a tribute to the dead as if they could or should be impressed by Valentino’s efforts. Stefania steadied herself and headed right for the dining room.

The rest of her family were already there, enjoying light snacks and wine. All conversation came to a hush as she entered, and two dozen eyes settled on her. Stefania gave a deep bow, conscious of the concealed weapons in her clothes and how it would feel to use them.

“Good evening,” Stefania called out, mouth splitting into a feral grin. “It has been too long, Medinas. I trust everyone is well?”

The whispers started again. Lorenzo, violent thug that he was, looked ready to leap over the table he sat at to get to her. His younger brothers sat lined up next to him, an entire table full of people who probably wanted her dead at least as much as Valentino did. Just because she hadn’t yet killed a cousin didn’t mean they had escaped years of defeat and humiliation.

“You always knew how to make an entrance,” Lorenzo’s youngest sister, Nera said. “We are well, and you are well met. Have you come to break bread peacefully with us, like family?” Her tone was even.

“I’ve come to break bread, yes,” said Stefania. “Among other things. Going over to a mostly empty table that had her own little sister and her niblings, she smiled. “How goes it, sweet Coretta? You finding yourself enjoying the company here?” She sat down at the center, where she belonged. The platters of food made her mouth water, but she would eat after she took care of business.

Coretta sighed and welcomed her with a half hearted, one-armed hug as Stefania sat. “Must you antagonize everyone at all times? This is a dinner for peace.”

“That’s what Valentino claims, yes,” said Stefania under her breath. “Nonno claims otherwise.”

Her sister just rolled her eyes. Giovanni didn’t appear to anyone, and most of the time he forgot about Luccia’s youngest entirely. She had no reason to believe in the stories of his ghost lingering on.

“Please tell me you’re not going to cause trouble.”

“I promise, I will not be the cause of anything. Valentino knows what he’s done, and he’ll answer for it.” Rage flared inside her again, brief and hot. Stefania looked around the room at dark features, haughty features much like her own. There would be much fewer after tonight.

Valentino came back alone. No doubt Sofia was dawdling, or maybe passed out drunk. Whatever, she wasn’t necessary for the upcoming show. Their host went to the center of the room and cleared his throat.

“I want to thank everyone for being here, although I see a few missing faces. I would have preferred to have everyone in one place for this, but alas.” He looked at Stefania specifically. She didn’t react save for fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“For too long we’ve been apart. But before we talk of business and reconciliation, please, eat this feast I’ve had prepared for us all.” He bowed his head and went to his own seat. Scattered, muted applause accompanied him, and then it was quiet.

Valentino clapped his hands twice and musicians came out of the wings, playing an old ballad that had been beloved by Giovanni. Stefania fought the urge to scoff. He had nothing new, nothing original to him. All he had was clinging to Nonno’s image and strength.

She kept her eyes and ears sharp, but she did give in and eat. If her cousin was going to be a copycat, at least he provided them with all of their favorites. Fine soups and cheeses along with excellently dried and cured meats as thin as parchment. The wine was full bodied and paired well with the main course, stuffed quails.

In some ways, it delighted her, knowing everyone would enjoy themselves before the end. Was it not merciful to give the dead one final good meal? Sure, it was Valentino who provided it, but then, Stefania had few qualms about hijacking his trap for her own ends. She chuckled and drained another glass of wine, promising herself she’d stop before she was too full to strike.

In half an hour, Valentino stood up once more, clearing his throat and clinking a fork against his wine goblet for attention. Conversation died down again, and he took his opportunity for a speech.

“For too long we’ve been at each other’s throats, too eager to hurt or inconvenience each other to think about the bigger picture. I -- “

“How many times did you partake in those festivities?” Stefania called out, finishing her third glass of wine. Her head buzzed pleasantly, but it wasn’t too much. Not yet.

Valentino took a deep breath. “More than I should have, dear cousin. I’m just as much at fault as any of us are. And that’s why I gathered us here today. I’m tired of the petty fighting, and the backstabbing, and always having to look over my shoulder. Tonight, we end the enmity for good.”

“I agree,” said Stefania, rising on unsteady legs. Her breath caught in her chest. Something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She carefully made her way around the table and stood teen feet away from her cousin. “We end it tonight. But unlike what you thought, you will not lay a finger on my sons.”

Valentino blinked, and her cousins whispered in a hush. “What are you talking about?” He demanded with a false laugh. All around the room, Valentino’s men came from the hallways, drawing swords and guns. They flanked the Medinas, but Stefania wasn’t concerned.

“I know you’ve been receiving advice from Nonno,” she said, hand on the edge of her jacket. “He talks to me too. He told me about the plot against my children. That’s why I’m here. Did you really think I would let you get away with it?”

Lorenzo and his brothers stood up, hands on daggers at their sides. They had enough propriety to not bring full swords to the table, but were always ready for a brawl, and they could sense one coming. Valentino held his hand out to keep them at bay while he spoke.

“I would never harm children,” he said seriously. “I wasn’t going to kill your children, they were to be fostered by me. Hostages to your good behavior.”

“And now they’re not here,” said Stefania. “But I am. And I’m putting an end to it now. An end to you.”

Valentino chuckled darkly. “I already have. Did you enjoy the wine, cousin? A favorite vintage, with a little something extra in it. I promise, I was going to be merciful, but now I’m rethinking it. If you sit down and swear fealty, then maybe we can --”

Stefania’s vision blurred. Fear hissed, making her rage flare. It was the only thing keeping her head clear. She pulled out the single shot pistol from inside her coat. Valentino had enough time to gape before she pulled the trigger.

The sound of the gunshot rang out, loud enough to echo around the rafters and be heard from outside. It was the signal Stefania had promised her men. And now Valentino stood there dumbfounded, hand touching his bloody chest.

He collapsed to his knees, and all hell broke loose.