She stood at the top of the other staircase. She wore a knee length black dress with a gray blazer over it. Her sculpted eyebrows were furrowed and her lips flat.
“Yes, it is past time for me to take my place, make sure they all know the score,” I replied. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Celeste wants to meet for lunch,” she answered, eyes darkening. “Not that it's any of your business.”
Her father had put me in this position to protect her. Where she went and who she met with was my business if I was going to follow through with my promises to the Don. But saying as much right now would have done no good. It would turn the silent treatment I’d endured the last few days into an actual revolt on her part. My focus needed to be on her father’s men right now.
“Have fun,” I said with a shrug and a wave.
Before I turned back to the door, I caught her frown. Good. She expected me to object, wanted another argument. Oh, she was a fiery woman. Keeping your hand away from the flame was the best way to avoid a burn.
My driver had the car running in the driveway. He took off the moment I sat in the air conditioned comfort of the back seat. My eyes closed and my thoughts turned to the don’s lieutenants, now my lieutenants.
He’d been a strong boss, though well liked by his men. Firm but fair. Given who I was, I had an uphill battle to earn their respect, even married to the Don’s daughter. With any luck, I’d be able to follow his lead… at some point. Before then, my hand needed to be more firm than fair. I half expected to come to blows with someone today.
My driver pulled up to the curb in front of the Italian bistro. I opened my door to the midday Miami heat and hurried under the alcove and inside. Every meeting I had with the don regarding my takeover had occurred in the back room here and the place hadn’t changed in the months since our last meeting—not that I’d expected it too.
The thin man behind the bar turned toward me when the door opened. His eyes shot wide and he rushed over. On the way, he brushed his wispy hair back then wiped his hand on the crisp white apron he wore.
“Mr. Petrovich, it has been too long,” he said, extending his hand. “If you have any concerns or suggestions as the new owner, I’d be happy to hear them.”
“That’s good to hear, Mr…” I began, accepting his hand as I tried to remember his name, “Macia. I’ll be reviewing the books; I plan on doing that with every Castello business, so don’t think you’re being singled out. Once I better understand what I’m dealing with, I might have some questions.”
“Of course, sir,” the man replied, nodding deeply. “The men are already in the back room. You know the way, I’m sure.”
I did, and once Mr. Macia returned to the bar, I stepped through the side door to the room the don used for public meetings. It was empty except for a guard standing in front of the black door along the far wall. A big man wearing a dark suit stiffened when I appeared but then he offered a nod and stepped to the side of the door. Once I neared, he opened it for me.
A smaller room lay beyond with the same dark wood floor and deep red wallpaper as the rest of the restaurant. A single table dominated the small space, all eight chairs around it occupied by the don’s lieutenants, save for the one closest to the door.
The conversations in the room ended when the door opened. Enrico, sitting next to the head of the table offered a tiny nod. One of the other men had taken the don’s chair. The dying man had warned me about this possibility. Unimportant as it seemed to me, he had stressed that I not accept any chair except his, especially one with its back to the door.
“Please, join us, Mr. Petrovich,” Enrico said, waving his hand at the empty chair.
The rest of the men waited, all eyes on me, including the seat stealer. Another test. How many times would I need to jump through hoops like this?
“I do believe you are in my chair,” I replied, offering the man a measured and disinterested look.
He needed to know that I saw this sort of game as beneath me. I’d still take what was mine, ensure that my position as boss wasn’t challenged, but the way he’d chosen to flex his muscles didn’t actually threaten me. With any luck, I wouldn’t have to resort to anything more… physical.
“We have more important things to worry about than musical chairs, don’t we?” the man scoffed with a chuckle, eyes darting to the other men around the table.
No one else shared his laugh. I stepped deeper into the room, standing over the obstinate man. My schooled expression kept my lips flat, eyes neither narrowed nor wide, disinterested but not lacking in power.
“You’re right, we have a lot of important things to discuss,” I repeated his words, eyes never leaving his. “Mr. Castello named me his heir, asked me to marry his daughter to protect her and to ensure this organization didn’t fall to petty squabbles among his lieutenants. Everyone in this room knows that and they know why he chose me. I don’t believe we need to see an example, do you?”
Threats always reminded me of the three bears’ beds in the Goldilocks fairy tale. The perfect one had a sweet spot right in the middle. If you went too hot, you undermined the threat. The person on the other side would see it as the bluster it was. Too weak and they would think you were a pushover.
I had a dangerous reputation and an imposing physique, looming over the older man in my chair. Together, they added weight to my statements, showed I had the ability and willingness to go through with my threat.
The seat stealer glanced around at the rest of the lieutenants. None met his eyes, not even Enrico. Those dark eyes darted around the table faster. His chest rose and fell at a quicker pace. It seemed I’d hit the threat sweet spot.
“Just fooling around, boss,” the man said, forcing a chuckle before he stood. “I know it’s your seat.”
He inched toward me, intent on passing. I didn’t move out of the way. He squeezed by, brushing the back of Pirrello as he did. Another tiny power play, but they added up.
“Don Castello ran a tight ship from what I can see and what I’ve been studying since I agreed to his proposal,” I said after dropping to the don’s plush business throne. “I see no reason to not continue along the same lines. I don’t plan on making any big changes, at least not right away. I do, however, want to have an accounting of the organization’s assets. I want to know how the sausage is made.”
“Mr. Petrovich, with all due respect, everyone at this table has their territories and businesses running smoothly,” Enrico argued. “Surely you don’t need to perform an audit or anything. That’d be a waste of time.”
