Chapter 2
Working for Cold brought money, power, and most importantly, respect.
Rafaello Luchesi, the Don of the Luchesi family, believed Cold’s story and was very grateful to Mickey for his part in revealing Tony’s alleged treachery. Mickey was even allowed a private audience with him, got to kiss his big ruby ring and everything.
It was surreal.
Mickey still didn’t understand how toasting one shitty bar was going to help Cold take over the city, but he soon learned not to question Cold’s plans.
Because damn if they didn’t work out every time.
All of his plots, each and every one of his schemes, were successful. Between running numbers, baiting other crooks, and manipulating the police, Cold was making an absolute fortune for the Luchesi family.
As promised, Mickey was rewarded well, and Cold moved him and his grandfather into a modest apartment in the city. For the first time in years, Mickey had his own bedroom, a fridge full of food, and plenty of cash on hand to take care of his grandfather.
Pops assumed Mickey had gotten a promotion at work, and Mickey didn’t bother correcting him.
After all, it was pretty close to the truth.
Instead of waiting for Duncan to hunt down a new client, Mickey’s days started and ended with Cold. He busted heads, collected money, and did whatever else was asked of him. He went everywhere Cold did, and Mickey learned a lot about the mysterious mobster.
The first was that Cold didn’t like to be touched. Anyone who tried was met with intense violence, a rare glimpse of the nasty temper hiding behind his icy facade. Jules seemed to be able to get away with bumping or nudging him, but even he kept his physical contact to a minimum.
He was never not in a suit. There was something important to Cold about looking nice, but Mickey didn’t think it was vanity. Cold was very handsome and confident, but the meticulous way he fussed over his suits reminded Mickey of wearing a uniform. It always had to be perfect.
Cold also seemed to know a lot of people in the city. They couldn’t go anywhere without running into someone he knew. Despite his fancy suits and brisk attitude, he never hesitated to stop so he could chat with the valets out front of the fanciest hotels or the cooks having a smoke break outside an alley.
Even the garbagemen greeted him by name, and there was one old man who sold fruit who would never let him pass without giving him an apple.
These people were the backbone of the city, and as Mickey discovered, they were key to Cold’s massive web of information.
The Don wasn’t supposed to be eating red meat, bad heart, but the cook at his favorite restaurant was still serving him steaks. The old man who sold fruit happened to frequent the same cathouses as the Don’s eldest son and regularly had some juicy gossip. The mother of a valet at the Wynne Hotel was a maid at the mayor’s office who heard everything that happened during private meetings, and the cousin of one of the garbagemen was a secretary at the Strassen Springs First Bank who oversaw countless money transfers.
All over the city, high and low, Cold had an entire network of informants. Though he was still a captain to the Luchesi family, he had his own loyal followers, and he was also slowly building his own crew.
The Gentlemen.
Mickey wasn’t too crazy about the nickname, but it had sort of stuck, the irony being not a single one of them were the slightest bit gentlemanly.
The group included Jules, of course. He was more clever than he let on, and he was a monstrous physical force. He and Cold had been friends since they were children, and his devotion was without question. His reasons for hating the Luchesi family were unknown, but he made no secret of wanting to take them out.
Not long after Mickey and Duncan were brought into the fold, Cold recruited a man known only as Jermaine. Mickey wasn’t sure how they’d met, but it was right around the same time two cops were gunned down outside a bank in broad daylight. Jermaine, or Jerry as he later preferred to be called, was French, sneaky, and quiet.
Mickey had heard he was a nasty criminal on the run from Interpol, but he was never sure.
There was a young man named Theodore Pym who claimed to be eighteen but didn’t look a day over twelve. His parents had kicked him out after they found him kissing a boy, and he returned the favor by hacking their credit cards and forcing them into bankruptcy. Cold was quite fond of him and claimed he was instrumental for his future takeover.
The next Gentleman wasn’t a man at all, but a fierce lady named Stephanie “Crybaby” Cox. She was a pit bull of a woman with a strong jaw and a nasty right hook. Cold had taken her under his wing after the Luchesis took her bakery out from under her when she and her girlfriend got behind on protection payments. Like Pym, Cold said she was vital for the demise of the Luchesi clan.
Whatever Cold had planned, it was going to be incredible. Mickey couldn’t wait to be a part of it and watch those smug pricks go down.
But when?
It had been six months since Cold had offered him and Duncan protection, and Mickey was definitely better off than he’d ever been. A nice apartment and steady paycheck, however, wasn’t the epic piece of the city Cold had promised him.
He reminded himself to be patient.
After all, Cold hadn’t let him down yet.
