EPILOGUE 1
FIERO – SIX MONTHS LATER
“I’m glad it all worked out for you, Fiero,” Rico says, clapping me on the back as we watch our women laughing and dancing on the dance floor.
Dinner and speeches ended an hour ago, and now we’re into the partying part of the celebrations. Our formal wedding day was everything I was hoping it would be and more, and from the wide smile my wife has been sporting all day, I know she feels the same.
“I’m glad the board saw reason and didn’t punish you or Caleb too severely,” Rico adds.
We got off lightly with fines, a one-month suspension, and a rap on the knuckles. Undoubtedly, it has damaged both our reputations, but neither of us care.
“It’s wonderful to see you so happy, and Valentina has really blossomed. Love suits you both.”
My lips kick up at the corners as I eyeball him. “A wise man once said he never regretted putting a ring on his wife’s finger, and I couldn’t agree more.” My wife looks like royalty in her princess-style wedding dress, the skirt swishing around her stunning body as she laughs and twirls with her friends.
All the wives and my sisters gathered around Valentina in the aftermath of that last day in Miami, offering her ongoing support and friendship. She’s been welcomed into their circle with open arms, and I couldn’t love them more for it.
Myconsiglierearches a brow and grins. I’m so glad he forgave me. To say Rico was pissed when he discovered everything I’d hidden from him is an understatement. He was frosty with me for weeks, and we only overcame it because I swore to never do it again. “If I recall it correctly, I said I never regretted putting a ring on Frankie’s finger and knocking her up. Something you want to share, Maltese?”
“Nothing yet, but hopefully soon if I have my way. I promise you’ll be the first to know after our families.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t knocked her up yet.” He sips his beer.
Around us, everyone we know and love is enjoying our wedding reception after the emotional ceremony in the cathedral earlier today.
“I’ve wanted to, but it wasn’t the right time.”
“Of course.” His expression switches from jovial to somber. “How is she doing now?”
“She’s good.” I grip the bottle in my hand tight, grinding my teeth and wishing I could resurrect Cesco Ferraro from the grave to make him suffer for what he did to my kitten. I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling guilty for not protecting her from him. I promised her no one would ever hurt her again, and they did. Valentina refuses to let me blame myself, but I can’t rid myself of these feelings no matter how many times she pleads with me to let the guilt go. “Therapy has helped her to work through everything, and she’s in a much better place now.” I sat in on several sessions with my wife, to offer moral support, and we had a few couples’ sessions too.
“That’s good. Now you can get on with the rest of your lives.”
“That’s the plan even if the situation in Florida is going to turn into full-scale war one of these days.”
“That little shit really landed us in it,” Massimo says, clearly hearing the tail end of the conversation as he materializes at my side.
“He did, but we’ll find a way to come out the other side like we always do,” Joshua says, joining our little circle.
Cesco believed he could take control of Florida using his gangland contacts and the cartel to oust us from the region and then dispose of the cartel so he could control the entire supply chain for the state. Never mind the cartel is the biggest and most powerful Mexican cartel and he was only a pup with delusions of grandeur. His plan was psychotic in the extreme, and he hurt a lot of innocent people.
Cesco had alluded to the cartel planning to kill me, so I didn’t show to our meet. I was too busy taking care of my wife to leave New York anyway.
Thanks to Valentina’s intel, we had the coordinates of all the warehouses the Ferraros were using to store drug supplies for the cartel. Before we could get to them, the cartel removed their product and burned the structures to the ground. What they—and we—didn’t know is Cesco doctored the fentanyl, adding a chemical compound that reacted adversely in people with certain genetic predispositions, making the drug deadly for those individuals. Hundreds of innocents lost their lives, a lot of them kids, teens, and young adults. It horrified the nation and made global headlines, and it sickened us that any made man could do something so heinous.
The blame for the fentanyl tragedy squarely landed on the cartel’s door because Cesco made sure all the drugs carried the cartel branding and that nothing traced back toLa Cosa Nostra.The authorities might buy it, but the cartel knows exactly who set them up, and now they are looking for our heads on spikes.
We reached out, via an intermediary, in an effort to avoid a full-scale war, explaining it was the actions of someone who went rogue and we didn’t condone it. We indicated our willingness to sit down and find a resolution, but they rebuked us. They don’t care Cesco was acting alone and it wasn’t sanctionedmafiosoorders.
They want someone to pay, and that someone is us.
However, the authorities are all over this, which is advantageous for us. The public wants people locked up for the mass murders, and the government has pumped money into a covert campaign to capture the cartel leaders and get them behind bars.
The cartel had no choice but to lick their wounds and retreat to Mexico until the heat dies down.
It buys us some time, but they will come for us.
And we’ll be ready.
