I blink at him. “You’ve been avoiding that all year,” I remind him. “What’s changed?”
He waves his hand and looks toward the window. “Well, you know how fast word travels, and word is… a few hours ago, Michaelis Dresvanni was assassinated,” he explains.
I’m taking a sip just as he says this and nearly choke. I clear my throat and set the mug down. “By who?”
“Why should I know?” he says innocently. “I had no part in it, none of us did. We would never do such a thing.”
He talks as if he’s scared someone might be listening. Frankly, he should be. I narrow my eyes at him.
“Uncle Eivor…if you?—”
“I did not,” he snaps.
My jaw tightens and I ignore the twitching of my fingers. I hate how he acts offended at the implication.
“Fine. Then you think now is a good time to get on their good side?” I ask him. I hate how this coffee tastes with just sugar…and yet, I keep drinking it. I ignore the cream, and continue to swallow the bitter liquid.
“In a way,” he waves his hands, his expression softening again. “We are not interested in integrating with them, but I’d like them to believe we are.”
“What do you expect to get out of that?” I keep my eyes on him, making myself meet his gaze no matter how sick to my stomach it makes me.
It shouldn’t. We’re adults. He’s been taking care of me for years. I shouldn’t struggle to sit in the same room with him, yet I do.
I know why… but I push it back even further, and simply remind myself that I owe him my life.
“I’d like you to negotiate for access to the Dresvanni club and permission to sell our stock there…in exchange for added protection, of course,” Eivor says, folding his hands together.
“When they find out you’re not willing to integrate eventually, they’ll pull the deal, you know that,” I remind him.
He chuckles. “We can worry about that later. Right now, they’re vulnerable. They need our protection. The oldest, Carmine, he’ll be in charge now. You need to find out how open to discussion he is first, figure out how to use his weak spots to get in.” He takes another drink, and then reaches to pour himself more.
“Find his weak spots…” I mumble. “Wouldn’t Rosalie be better for that?”
“No, I don’t think so. She’s far too high strung to deal with a man who has just lost his father. You know how to work a man beyond just his body, Soren,” he smirks at me.
The corners of my mouth pull up, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “And if I don’t agree with this plan?”
“I’m not suggesting, boy. This is your job; you will do it.” He sets his mug down onto the table with a thud and several splatters of coffee land on the table and the edges of his open pages.
“Only curious, of course…Uncle.” I stand up from the chair, feeling more comfortable while he’s below me rather than at the same eye level.
“Of course. Stay, you don’t have to start immediately,” he says, waving at the coffee. “I can have Francesca bring in some scones and croissants.”
I shake my head. “No.” My objection comes out too fast, so I follow it up. “It’s better that I observe Carmine as soon as possible, while the grief is fresh.”
“Good man. I’ll tell the rest of the family the good news, your aunt will be very pleased to hear it.”
I turn from him, my head and neck so tight it hurts. I’m not sure what he considers the good news—the death of a rival or my willingness to start the job immediately. It doesn’t matter. None of this is for him.
It’s for my family. Those who still live, and those who don’t all the same.
Tessari belongs to the Dresvanni’s, it always has. At least as long as anyone can remember. My uncle isn’t the only one who wants that to change. The murder of Michaelis Dresvanni in the middle of the night just days before Christmas isn’t needed to figure that out, but it’s sure a red-hot neon sign blinking right at all of us.
I’m not sure if I believe that Eivor has no information on who called the hit, much less that he isn’t the one who called it himself. Our family, the Fiorelli’s, we’ve been stalling on negotiating with the Dresvanni’s all year, and practically for the last decade. While combining our two families, integrating them into one would benefit us and them greatly, it’s not the only option. Signing away some small part of our power in exchange for some of theirs is also an option.
Uncle Eivor doesn’t want to give up his unsullied power in our domain in order to have even a fraction of power in Tessari. Yet, he’s requesting that I offer that now to Carmine Dresvanni…the night after his fathers’ death.
It’s a good play, and he knows I can run it. There’s no one else better for the job.
