“But he wasn’t loyal to you…”
“No. But we all deserve some fucking dignity in our old age.”
“How can you afford to just… pay people who aren’t working?”
“The dirty little secret of the world is that all the wrong, selfish people end up with all the money. People who wouldn’t stop to piss on you if you were on fire. Dunno how the fuck they can look themselves in the mirror every day.
“I don’t need a yacht and six houses. I need to be able to sleep at night. Helping someone who is struggling right in front of my eyes is a way to do that. It would barely be a blip on my bottom line. But it would change his life.”
“Wow,” I said, not sure what else to say.
“You know how the mob got away with the bat-shit crazy shit they used to do in the Golden Age?” Remo asked.
“No.” But I suddenly felt like I needed to brush up on mafia history.
“They took care of their neighborhoods. Sure, they were doing shady and illegal shit. But they also suppressed violent local street crime. They protected businesses and seniors. They donated to food banks. Bought uniforms for the school sportsteams. People remembered that. And kept their mouths shut when the cops had questions.
“I’m not saying it was all gentlemen dons or some shit like that. Just like any other corner of the world, when you give the wrong men too much power, they exploit it. The same people they used to help get hurt.”
“I dunno, maybe I’m a fucking idealist or some shit, but I felt like the world was a better place when people gave a damn about their communities. I want to see that here. Fuck knows the area needs it.”
“I like you, Remo,” I declared.
“Yeah?” he asked. This time, his smile was wicked. “Wanna transfer your affections for my cousin over to me?” he asked. “A king ain’t shit without a queen, you know.”
“Which is probably why, historically, women have been better leaders,” I teased. “But, sorry, no. I like you. But what I feel for Milo is… different.”
“You can name it what it is, you know,” he said. “Pretty clear he feels the same way.”
“Who feels the same way?” Milo asked, coming out of the bedroom.
He walked behind me, his hands going to my shoulders, automatically rubbing at the tension still held in the muscles there.
“Just talking to your woman about the history of the mob,” Remo told him.
“Oh, great,” Milo said, his tone suggesting it was anything but.
“He’s going to give Archie a retirement so he can relax at home.”
“He deserves it.”
Huh.
Simple as that.
No questions about the financials of it.
Were they all just… fundamentally good men who wanted to see good done toward people who couldn’t catch a break?
“What about the pit boss?” I asked.
“What about her?”
“Is she fired too? Or retired?”
“Fuck no,” Remo said. “Woman who will beat a man’s head in with a metal door lock? That’s someone I want working the pit in my casino.”
“But she let me snoop in Frank’s office.”
