Father and son may have been more apt, given the difference in their ages.
Cold looked up when Mickey and Duncan came in, and he gestured for them to sit down at the table.
Mickey sat beside Jules, and Duncan sat next to him.
“Everything go okay?” Jules asked gruffly.
“Fine.” Mickey put the money on the table.
Jerry put out his cigarette and came over to sit next to Crybaby. He eyed Mickey, noting, “You look a bit flushed,monsieur.”
“I’m fine,” Mickey grunted. It had absolutely nothing to do with the weird encounter with the nut job at the gas station he couldn’t stop thinking about.
Cold and Alistair exchanged a few whispers, and then Cold smiled. He leisurely strolled over to the head of the table to sit down, waving for Pym to join them.
Pym took the last open seat, sinking down in his chair. He seemed lost without the computer.
Alistair leaned against the side of the desk and crossed his arms.
There was definitely something big going on. The air was electric, nasty, and Mickey could feel it in his bones.
“Thank you all for coming,” Cold began, his voice as ever a lucid purr. “I have some exceptional news. I didn’t want to make the announcement until I was absolutely sure, but the moment we’ve been waiting for is finally here.” He smiled again. “Don Luchesi is dead.”
“How?” Mickey blurted out.
“Murdered in his very own home,” Cold replied. “I have been waiting years for the old man to kill himself with a heart attack, but someone else decided to speed his demise along. Though I am grateful, this means that certain plans are going to be put into action much sooner than I expected.”
“The city,” Crybaby said, her eyes wide. “We’re takin’ it. We’re gonna do it.”
“Yes,” Cold confirmed. “With your help, my dear Gentlemen, the city is finally going to be ours.”
“Fuck yeah,” Jules cheered.
“Who killed the Don?” Duncan asked quietly.
“I do not know.” Cold seemed a little annoyed at that fact. “But that will actually end up working to our advantage.”
“How?”
“Because if I don’t know, it means the Luchesis don’t know.” Cold leaned forward, his usually calm face lit up with excitement. “The most likely suspects are his three sons, Cristian, Luigi, and Matteo. The Don had yet to name an heir, and there will most certainly be a struggle for power.”
“The ring,” Mickey recalled. “He didn’t pass on that stupid ring.”
“Precisely,” Cold said. “Matteo was favored to take his father’s place, but his brothers are hungry for it too. This also works to our advantage.”
“What do we do?” Crybaby asked eagerly. “Kill ‘em?”
“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but no,” Cold drawled. “They’re about to do their own killing, and we’re going to help them right along.” He looked to Mickey. “Do you remember when you were so kind as to discover Tony Luchesi’s nasty theft?”
“Yeah,” Mickey replied. “What about it?”
“Well, it turns out he was stealing that money to help fund Cristian’s future claim to the throne.” Cold pursed his lips. “Such a shame.”
“The bar… it was Luigi’s, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Cold confirmed. “Piece by piece, we’re going to turn the three brothers against one another. The family will split apart. Everyone will try to pick a side, and the three darling siblings will each be attempting to make the best case for themselves while valiantly trying to murder the others.”
“Chaos,” Alistair said with a knowing nod. “It’s going to be total and complete chaos.”
