Chapter Three
LUCA
Before
When Angelo Messina left New York, left the Family, leftme, I knew there would never be another like him. But I have to admit that Teo Vitali has impressed me. When he stood up in Boston and asked for a place at the table, for example, or when he put himself in danger to protect the priest, or when he stepped up without hesitation to help our Donovan allies… Yes, Vitali has impressed me. He’s a dedicated Family man and he’s a great security adviser, and I’m lucky to have him.
We don’t always agree, though.
Like the morning he walked into my study and I showed him the note the Irish Freedom Fighters had sent me—sent to my home address.
We will avenge the murders of the martyrs Fearghus Donovan and Margaret Fincher Donovan.
“Well, Vitali?” I prompted. “You’re our security guy. What do you think it means?”
“It means we need to get ready for war, Boss,” he told me.
I liked that he didn’t hold back. He told me straight out, confirmed my own thoughts. That reassured me; Vitali was taking the threat as seriously as Angelo would have done. But where we differed was in the solution to this problem.
He rubbed his fingers across his mouth, thinking. “First thing we do, we get extra security for this place.”
“Extra security?”
“We already got bullet-resistant glass everywhere, but we need stronger bars on those lower windows, safe room installation, more guards—”
“No.” I sat back in my seat and watched him try very hard not to say anything. But he couldn’t help himself in the end.
“Boss, if there’s an attack here like there was on the Donovan house…” He paused, hoping I’d simply agree. “And I think we need to step up your guards, get you a twenty-four/seven shadow. Maybe two of them,” he went on, as though Ihadagreed.
“There are already bars on the downstairs windows,” I told him, and he should have heard the warning tone in my voice. He did not, or perhaps he just ignored it.
“Those bars might keep out thieves, but they’ll buckle like tinfoil under the kind of attack Tara Donovan went through. You weren’t there, Boss. You don’t know how—”
“No,” I said again. “I will not change my house, my plans or my life just because some asshole is threatening me.”
He was smart enough to change his tactics then. “There’s just as much threat against Mr. D as there is to you.”
“And it’s up to you to make sure he’s protected. But I will not have my own actions curtailed because of this, Vitali.”
“But—”
I slammed my fist down on the table, and saw him blink. “I willnotmake myself appear weak.” After a moment, I continued, “Our position in New York is tenuous, Vitali. You need to understand that. The moment anyone thinks I’m worried about my own safety is the moment I will need tobeworried about my own safety.”
And, more importantly, Finch’s safety. But I kept that thought to myself.
I thought we’d be on the same page after that. But I was wrong.
“I’d still like more guards on the house,” Vitali persisted. “And at the nightclub with Mr. D.”
“I already told you, you can assign as many as you think Finch needs.”
“Yeah? Well, about that. He keeps refusing. And frankly, Boss—” Vitali had never taken this tone with me before, and I wasn’t sure I liked it. “—it’d be a lot easier to convince Mr. D he needs extra protection if you led by example.”
I took a second to quell my temper before I said, “Just do your fucking job, Vitali. The one you wanted so badly. Or do I need to drag Angelo Messina back here to do it for you?Heunderstood the value of optics.”
His lips went thin and tight. “No, Boss. I get it. No need to bother Mr. Messina.”
I gave him a moment to breathe while I collected my thoughts. “Who’s with Finch tonight?”
