I’ve seen the same thing amongPapá,TíoEnrique, andTíoLuis. I have a vague memory ofTíoEsteban being no different. My cousins and I are like this too. Reading one another’s minds—the synchronicity—comes from a lifetime of trust and loyalty. Family by blood and by choice.
I allow the silence to stretch, knowing filling it won’t convince them. It’s their turn to come to me. After all, I flew a quarter of the way around the world to meet them. That I’m uninvited is semantics.
“We want a route in the Netherlands and in Belgium.”
Of course, they do.
“We’ll give you the second most profitable routes through Antwerp and Amsterdam.”
“Second?”
“Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, Piero.”
“We’ll think about it.”
I rise, and so does Pablo, signaling the meeting’s end. I extend my hand, and Piero shakes before I reach out to Nicolò. Pablo does the same.
“Piero, I told you we won’t strike you for Vittoria’s sake. But fuck us over, and I’ll see it as an affront to my future wife. I won’t forgive.”
His left eye twitches, but he nods. From the corner of my eye, I watch Vita’s father. His expression’s not friendly, but it’s not as aloof as it was when we arrived. I think I’ve earned his approval. I pray I have.
Once we’re in our vehicle on the way to the airport, my cousins and I discuss the meeting.
“How long until he thinks he can slide by?” Javier truly trusts no one outside the family.
“After the wedding. Probably before the reception’s over.” Jorge has little faith in any of the Italians.
“We planned to work our way south, but perhaps we should go to Sicily next. See the Carosis’ ally before their enemies, that way they don’t feel left out.” I genuinely want my cousins’ opinions even though this is my mission to lead.
“No. I say we see the Camorra next. We have an in with them through Friedrich, even if he’s in Germany. We already told him we’d visit, so I’m certain he called the don to let him know. If we’re delayed or they find out we chose another Mafia over them, then they won’t be as receptive. We use whatever reaction we get from the Camorra and’Ndranghetato wrap things up with the Torettas.” Jorge’s argument is valid.
“All right, we continue as we planned. The Camorra in Naples, then the’Ndranghetain Calabria.”
We chat about the most recent soccer matches we’ve watched, who’s gotten gains when we work out, and what we want to eat when we land. Basically, the same shit we always talk about when we’re killing time.
“That went about as well as seeing the Camorra.Carachimbas de mierda.” Fucking faces of vaginas.
It loses something in the translation, but I’m pissed. While Piero wasn’t excited to see us, he saw the merits of our argument. The Camorra and’Ndranghetaweren’t as amenable. Not that we assumed they would be, but they dug their heels in, bragging that the Carosis and Torettas couldn’t hide behind us forever. They can’t and won’t, but they didn’t put themselves in our crosshairs.
“I’ll wire the money to their offshore accounts.” Jorge has his laptop open while we ride to the airport.
“And I’ll let ourregiosknow what’s coming.”
Pablo mentions ourregionales;they’re the ones who oversee trade routes and commerce in specific regions. It has nothing to do with being royal or regal.
“And I’ll letTíoEnrique know we’re implementing our fallback.”
We always have contingencies for our contingencies. If they hadn’t cooperated, we’d have blown shit up left and right until they begged us to accept their apologies. We won’t blow up everything, but we’ll punish them.
“Hola, sobrino.”
“Hola, tío.”
My cousins echo me as we greetTíoEnrique.
“Niños—”
“What happened?”
