“Stop fooling around. Abandon those waifs. Marry my daughter. And open your fucking ports. Make this alliance happen, or I swear I’ll rain hellfire on you.”
I huffed a chuckle. “Good luck.”
I ended the call, clutching my phone tight in my hand for a measure of restraint. I jerked my head left and right, enjoying the cracking between my joints. I breathed out hard and adjusted my stacks of poker chips into equal-numbered piles—each at equal distance from the other.
“Giambrone knows about my adoption plans.”
“You suspect a traitor?” Tore asked.
“Or he’s spying,” Vinny added, shuffling the cards without a glance up. He knew something, something that left him indifferent.
My phone vibrated once and quick. My guess: a message to emphasize Giambrone’s point. I ignored it. “What?”
Vinny continued shuffling. “There’s been a couple of attempts at interference since the paperwork was filed. Nothing our lawyers couldn’t push back. I suspected Giambrone was involved. His call proves me right.”
“You knew he wouldn’t like this,” Tore commented to me as he scooped the mixed deck in his direction. “You shuffled. I’m dealing.”
Vinny sighed. “You’ll still lose. You’ve got the luck of a deformed horseshoe.”
I tapped one chip against the table, then flicked it at Tore’s forehead. “Just get on with it.”
“That hurt.” Tore rubbed where it smacked him.
I ignored him. “Just make sure this goes through. How long do you need?”
“Even by greasing every palm out there?” Vinny asked. “Another month at least. Some of the paperwork and approvals can’t be rushed.”
“The sooner it goes through, the sooner this farce ends.”
“Giambrone’s not going to accept his losses so easily. You sure about this, boss?”
I shook my head. “He won’t want to risk the possibility that my heir isn’t half Giambrone, not when I’ll have an adopted son to inherit and two daughters to marry off when the time comes.”
“They’re not Italian.” Vinny relaxed an arm over the back of his seat. “He has to know those kids won’t be accepted.”
“They’ll become Italian by filial relations, if I choose to accept them as such, and Giambrone knows that.”
“Both of you should be more worried that our Las Vegas gambling days’ll be over,” Tore said with a straight face, dealing card by card, each round paused by a pull of his cigar.
Vinny huffed and crushed the end of his cigar in the ashtray. “I hate gambling.”
“Hate to break it to you, but that’s exactly what we’re doing right now.”
Swiftly, Vinny took out his gun and pressed the muzzle to my cousin’s head. “Not if I take every chip back from you.”
Tore grinned at him like a maniac. “You can try. Not going to get far with the safety on.”
“Idiot.” With a flare of his nostrils, Vinny shoved Tore’s head back and set his gun down.
“I doubt it’ll be as easy as a broken contract.” Tore rubbed at his forehead. “What if Giambrone decides to push for war?”
“Doubtful.” Vinny glanced down at his cards and arranged them. “The man might not be the most stable bullet in a loaded gun, but he’s smart enough to know he doesn’t have the manpower to take the ports from us.”
“He’s a calculating brute,” I said. “Much like my father, except richer. Probably why they got along so well, and why he believes I’ll so easily submit to him.” I placed my cards down and tossed in my bet. “Any news from the Greeks?”
“None,” Tore stated. “All’s quiet.”
“Too quiet. I don’t like it,” Vinny added as he tossed chips into the pot. “Dimakos can’t take this sitting down and keep face. They’ve only got two days left.”
