Ashley looked at Monk. “You’re in a war with Uncle Mick?” She was still trying to process it. “Do you realize how powerful that man is?”
But Monk didn’t respond. It was trying enough. He knew Mick’s reach better than she did.
Then he looked at her. “Sure you don’t want to go with your father? It’ll be safer with him.”
“Uncle Mick won’t hurt me.”
“He won’t purposely hurt you, no. But stray bullets have no favorites.”
Ashley understood that too. But still. “I’m staying with you,” she said.
And Monk, pleased and scared too, pulled her into his arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Early that next morning Mick woke up alone in their bedroom. At first he was confused. Then he realized he had gotten in the recliner by the fireplace, just to see if she would return any time soon, but he had fallen asleep. When he looked over at their bed and saw that Roz wasn’t asleep in it, nor had it been disturbed since last night when he got up to give her her birthday gift, his heart sank. Did she spend the night with that joker?
He grabbed his cellphone that was seated on the table beside the recliner and saw that Roz hadn’t phoned him. He knew she was okay, or her security details would have been in touch, but it still felt jarring to Mick. To know that his woman was with a good-looking man whom he knew had designs on her was unsettling. He didn’t trust Kelly Cochran as far as he could throw him. But he trusted Roz.
Not that his trust in her made him feel secure. It didn’t. Because he knew there was such a thing as a last straw. How much more of his bullshit was she going to take? That was what kept him deeply concerned.
And there was that matter of Monk Paletti.
He got up, peed and showered, brushed and gargled, and dressed in one of his tailored suits. In the mirror, he looked like a seasoned businessman who knew exactly what he was doing. Underneath, his life was an unmitigated mess. He made his way downstairs.
Although almost everybody from the party had dispatched back to their own homes and home states and familylife, Sal Gabrini remained at the Sinatra compound in case his services (and syndicate) were needed.
When Mick came downstairs, Sal was seated in the dining hall in his usual double-breasted suit and tie, looking very much like the mob boss he actually was rather than the businessman he was trying to project. Big Daddy and Amelia had long since been back in town from their trip to Jersey and were seated at the table too. Teddy was also there. And Nikki, who had just taken their daughter Kimmie to the family room where Jackie and Duke were hanging out, was just walking back into the dining hall.
But Amelia was the first to see Mick. “If it ain’t Mister Meek and Mild,” she said and then smiled.
Mick was not amused. “Hammer Reese hasn’t summoned your dizzy ass back to Montreal yet?”
“Very inappropriate,” Amelia said. “How would you like it if I said you look like shit? Which you do by the way.”
Big Daddy gave a weak smile, but it was obvious to Mick that he had Monk on his mind and what was going to happen to Ashley.
“Any word from your guys on the street?” Big Daddy asked as Mick sat down at the table.
Mick looked at Teddy. Teddy shook his head. “We got nothing so far. They can’t even confirm it was Monk who set fire to our tanker.”
Mick frowned. “Like hell they can’t. I know none of them want to accuse Monk of anything. I didn’t either. But giving him the benefit of the doubt is over. His men tried to take out my son when they knew he was my son. That case is closed.”
That was a question Teddy had been dying to ask his father since last night. “Are you certain Frankie know about your son, Pop?” he asked him.
“Yes, he knew. It was common knowledge in Rome and he has operations in Rome,” said Mick.
Big Daddy nodded his head. “He knew,” he said to Teddy.
But that only disgusted Teddy more. “And you didn’t think it would be wise to at least tell Ma about this son before somebody else did?”
“I told you I was still working some things out. Didn’t I tell your ass that?”
“But it’s your wife, Pop,” said Teddy, still unsatisfied. “She’s entitled to know before anybody else.”
“Don’t you worry about my wife.”
“Somebody’s got to,” Teddy fired back.
