“For fuck’s sake,” Carlo mutters, rubbing his hands over his face. “You couldn’t have thought about thisbeforeyou made me piss off the old Mob Boss via a game of chess?” He looks up at me, rueful humor making his eyes bright, and I can’t help myself. I reach out to his face, smooth down his eyebrow with my thumb, and then trail my fingers down his cheek.
“You did good. Built up a rep around the old folks, huh? Anyway. Maybe you’re right. Maybe your PI is the way to go for now. But either way, I need to touch base with Luca tonight. He’s already texted me a couple of times, wondering what I’m doing. We were supposed to catch up and I keep putting him off. Not work stuff—social stuff. Which, you know. Makes me feel like more of an asshole, somehow.”
“You two are pretty close,” Carlo says curiously.
“Yeah.”
Luca’s friendship is something I’ve come to be thankful for. Back before hereallymade his mark on the Morelli family, we ran in different crews and I never got to talk to him much. I knew he was gay and, unlike me, much more open about it. I always admired that about him. My own experiences with the Gees meant I mostly kept quiet—until recently. I’ll always be grateful to Luca for the fact that he shoved that door open for the rest of us.
Luca was also the one who gave me a chance to be Capo. I owe the guy my career, and the hell of a lot of profit it’s brought me over the last few years.
But more than all that, I know he has my back, just like I’m supposed to have his. He’s a brother in the truest sense of the word and I like to think, since his actual brother, Frank, isn’t around, that Luca sees me in the same way. Maybe even as a substitute.
Hopefully a slightly more intelligent substitute.
“The thing with the Boss…” I pause, start again. “The thing with Luca—I don’t wanna let him down, you know? He took a chance on me after Tino died.”
Carlo chews on his bottom lip for a moment. “What’s he going to do when he hears about Gatti?”
I don’t know. But Messina always used to tell me,Don’t come to me with a problem, come to me with a solution. Maybe if Carlo can start finding more information about this Dellacroce, if I can at least assure Luca that the blackmail situation is already under control, it’ll help smooth the waters. Luca’s been so paranoid lately, too; I don’t want to set him off. “It’ll be fine,” I tell Carlo. “Meanwhile, you see what you can dig up on Dellacroce, eh?”
“Okay. Well. If you drop me back at your place before you go see Luca, I could call my PI.”
I don’t like the idea of leaving Carlo alone, even in my place, which has reinforced doors and walls and bullet-resistant windows. After what went down in Boston, Vitali’s been around to all senior members’ homes and upgraded them for maximum protection. He even tried to talk me into a safe room, but I told himhellno. If anyone comes for me in my home, I’m going to make them regret it, not hide away like a mouse. Besides, there’s no way I’d everwillinglylock myself away in a box.
I do need to see Luca. I put him off yesterday, and this morning again. I can’t deny him a third time. “I’ll try to be quick with the Boss tonight. He’ll be pissed, no doubt, but I’ll explain how I’m handling it. Then when I get home, we can order food and talk over anything you find out.” The idea of sharing dinner with Carlo once again is comforting, even in the face of everything I have to tell Luca.
He’s not going to be pleased, but I don’t want Carlo worrying about it.Imade this bed. I’m the one who killed Gatti; I’m the one getting himself blackmailed. I can play down Carlo’s role in the whole story. And I trust Luca to be fair. To understand.
He’snotlike the Gees, I remind myself as I pull out into the street. He’d never fuck me over like that. Besides, if Luca D’Amato decided to ice me, he wouldn’t go asking permission.
And he’d have the balls to do it himself, too.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nick
Idrop Carlo back at my place, and once I’ve got him secure and on the phone to his PI, I drive over to the Fifth Avenue townhouse. It’s late in the afternoon by now and I hope Luca doesn’t suggest we go for dinner. But once he hears what I have to say, I bet all dinner invites will be off the table for a while.
“At last,” Luca says, when the house guards let me go up to his study. He’s looking over some contracts on his desk and a stone-faced blonde is sitting opposite. She rises to greet me and shakes my hand as Luca says, “Nick Fontana, this is Miranda Winter, from the law firm. She’s taking on the contracts for the Sardinian oil imports, since Bianchi apparently had better things to do.”
I blink. Luca is in amood. “I’m sure that’s not true,” I say, and then add quickly, “I mean, he always comes running when we need him. Give the guy a break for once, huh? Plus, I’m sure Ms. Winter is real good at her job.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fontana. As you say, Mr. Bianchi is taking some personal time this week,” Miranda says in a low, musical voice. “He asked me to take very special care of these contract negotiations.”
Luca gives a sniff that tells us exactly what he thinks about people taking personal time.
“What did you want me to look at, Boss?” I ask, deciding that it’s not the time to defend Carlo’s honor.
Luca beckons me over and starts to tell me all about the olive oil importing business he wants to set up. I’ve heard it before, too many times to even pretend I’m interested these days, and then he asks me to look at the contracts. “Tell me, does this seem reasonable to you? The percentage the supplier wants to take off the top?”
I’m no lawyer and I’m no accountant, but it seems like a reasonable amount. “I guess?”
“This is supposed to be the best quality olive oil they have.”
“Oil is oil,” I say, losing patience, but at Luca’s expression, I back the fuck up. “I mean, sure, yeah. Looks like a good deal to me.”
Luca nods like I’ve confirmed his own thoughts. “Way too low. A price like that means we’re not getting their best product.” He shuffles the papers back together and puts them back in the folder, then gets up from the desk and comes around to stand in front of Miranda Winter. She looks up at him with eyes as blank and cool as his own. “I appreciate you picking up the slack while Bianchi’s away, Ms. Winter, but I think I’d rather he prepare the final contracts with the original agreed pricing. This new contract might be cheaper, but I don’t trust cheap.”
