“I take it you haven’t told your sister yet?”
“No. They just left.”
“Ah.Joe Messina banished Brio Valentino for a while because of the situation with the Russians and Paul Gallo.”
“You got it.”
“Sonny?”
I sighed. “Still in ICU.”
She set her feet on the ground and lit up a cigarette. She took her glasses off, cleaned them, then set them back on. Her assistant, a young Italian man everyone knew she was sleeping with, came in and handed her a manila envelope. She watched him walk out of the room, her eyes on his ass.
She whistled low before she turned to face me and slid the envelope across her desk. I opened it, and my heart started beating so fast, I almost thought I was having a panic attack.
I lifted the first black and white photo.
She nodded. “Marzio’s coronation, if you care to call it that.” She waved a hand, and a surge of smoke wafted toward me. “When a new king is appointed to the Fausti throne, they will induct him as though he is royalty. There are usually pledges of fealty from those closest to the new king among the family, usually his brothers and sons, since the Faustis are known to have more sons than daughters.
“Since their word is considered as good as their blood, these are serious oaths taken. And it shows the rest of the family, who might try to challenge the new king to a death duel for the throne, that the new king has support.”
I looked up at her and we both smiled. It was like something out of a fairytale—kings, queens, knights, serifs…lions and tigers and bears…oh my!You could even say we got our kicks by talking about them. They were so fucking ruthlessandromantic.
My eyes fell to the next picture. A young Marzio, dressed so dapper that it gave me goosebumps, sitting next to his wife, the famous Italian actress, Grazia Angeli. They were in a gondola in Venice, cruising the canals, while reporters scrambled to get a shot of them.
The Faustis behaved like a royal family would. They gave back to their country, serving them in ways that gained favor. They married into families who were rooted in Italy. And they were entirely too good looking.
What made them criminal, though, was what went on beyond the golden gates they lived behind. They were like a pack of wild lions. But because of how charming they were, that part of the truth always seemed to get swept under the rug.
Not for people like Edna and me.
Instead of being blinded by the charm, we wanted to walk deeper into it even with our eyes closed. We just outstretched our hands, feeling our way behind the gates to experience first-hand who this family was.
“My father was there when Marzio was crowned the new king of the pride. To outsiders, it looked as if it was just a charity banquet, but the event has always had two faces, like the people of Venice wear masks during carnival.”
“Ah,” I breathed. “Always so symbolic.”
“What do I always say, Peps?”
“The same thing your father did, and his before him. Always go deeper than words—go so deep that you hit paper.”
She gave me a look of approval and motioned to the pictures. “Marzio didn’t go without challenges during his rule, but for the most part, he had the respect and support of the entire family. His word and ways were law. However.”
I looked up from the pictures and met her eyes.
“I do not believe his sons are going to share the same fate.” She lifted a finger. “Luca, Ettore, Lothario, Osvaldo, and Niccolo. There is too much strife among them to make the transition easy. Marzio’s death was unexpected. Luca is in jail, so Marzio would have left it to Ettore to act as ruler, unless he specified otherwise, until Luca is released. All good. But then we hear that Ettore is the cause of his own father’s death. That will not go over well with his other sons or the rest of the family.
“Therefore, we can assume either Ettore has been banished, or he has been killed. We don’t believe he has. But someone must run the family, and Marzio’s sons will fight the rest of the family to keep it in their line, even if it means banding together against the rest of the family to prove they are capable. Will they fight behind the scenes amongst themselves? Of course. But we know it goes something like this: a faction might be weak, but they will hide the weak leg from predators.”
“Brando or Rocco could step up to claim it.”
“Ah, yes, two of Marzio’s grandsons from Luca. They could, but it doesn’t seem they have. They would have to challenge Marzio’s third son for it. Lothario. And Lothario, by no means, is who the family is expecting to rule for a length of time. He’s no Marzio. He’s no Luca. He’s not even Ettore. He’s the son lucky enough to get his chance at the throne because the cards worked in his favor.” She stubbed her cigarette out. “Have you heard from your anonymous caller again?”
“No.”
The anonymous caller she was referring to was either a man or a woman distorting her voice. The caller would give me information on the Fausti family. He or she claimed to know where all their properties were located.
That kind of information in the wrong hands?
