"Mr. Marcello." He doesn't stand when we enter his office. "I've been expecting you."
I'm in a bad mood now. "I understand there's an issue with one of my shipments."
"There is. The paperwork is falsified."
"I'm sure it's just an error."
"I'm sure it's not." He leans forward. "I know what you are. What your family does. And I'm not interested in being part of it."
"That’s unfortunate,” I say. “Everyone has a price."
"Not me."
"Not yet." I stand. "Think about it. You have twenty-four hours."
"Or what?"
I don't answer and just leave. "Find out everything about that customs official,” I say to Tommy. “Family, debts, habits. Everything."
"And if he still won't play?"
"Then we make him disappear."
We return to the social club. Inside, Paulie's already there, and he's not subtle. "Back to the car thing," he says immediately. "Is she crazy or what?"
"She's not crazy."
"You're making excuses for her,” he says.
"Why does it matter to you?"
"It matters because someone saw it," Sal says. "And now everyone's talking about how the Marcello heir can't control his woman."
I stop. "She was scared because I was driving too fast. She reacted foolishly and jumped out when I wouldn’t stop. End of story."
Silence.
"You're going too soft on her," Sal says finally.
He's not wrong. I pull out my phone again. Open the message thread. My two texts are both read. She received them, read them and didn't respond. I stare at the screen, trying to think of what to say. Something casual. Something that doesn't sound desperate.
Me: Want to have dinner again? We can practice not fighting.
Send. Delivered. Read. No response.
I wait. Five minutes. Ten minutes.
Nothing.
"Boss, you're staring at your phone," Paulie says.
"I'm waiting for a response from her."
"Maybe she's busy," Tommy suggests.
"She read my messages. All three of them."
"Ouch." Paulie winces. "Three messages left on read. That's cold."
