I remember reading somewhere that successful criminal bosses share a similar profile—callous, vicious, cruel, but also highly methodical and psychologically astute. Jack Enzino is a violent, greedy, heartless man. He looks like one of those mobsters from the movies—round belly, gelled hair, and strong cologne—and just like most of them, he is a treacherous, unstable piece of shit. Still, compared to Don Sebastiano, my father looks like a small fish desperately trying to stay afloat in a sea of barracudas.
I scratch my neck, feeling uneasy. My mind keeps screaming: abort mission, abort mission! Meanwhile, Luca’s name oddly pops into my head as I try to find a way out. Like he’s my fucking savior. Preposterous!
“Fuck!” I hear Carlo saying as Don Sebastiano orders him to join him with a simple wave of his fingers.
Fly grips my arm to catch my attention. “Go!”
“What?”
“If Seb is here, Marco and Luca will soon know we are here, too.”
He takes Nacho and places him on his legs.
“Find your hookup fast. I’ll distract them.”
Right. I almost forgot my reason to come here. He nods encouragingly at me. He really is my ride-or-die buddy. He calls Santo over to him and makes him bend down with the excuse of talking to him. That’s my out.
I quickly make my way to the stairs and through the dance floor without anyone stopping me. I’m looking around, searching for someone decent enough when I see a pair of broad shoulders I know so well I could draw from memory—if I wasn’t shit at drawing. Green, furious eyes find mine, and the anxiety infesting my chest suddenly turns into fluttery excitement.
I glance at thestaff onlysignon the door on my left, and after half a moment of indecision, I decide to dare.
Chapter Seven
LUCA
Imade my bed, and now Arturo Enzino will bleed on it.
Cazzo! Why didn’t I cuff him? Why did I think that having Santo and Carlo outside the door and Jeff in the lobby would be enough to prevent him from getting out?
I’ve been too fucking lenient, and why? Because he pulled…my chest hair during a shooting? He wasn’t trying to save me. He is a fucking Enzino, a conniving, sneaky, lying fucker. Give him an inch, and he takes a mile and a hundred more.
“He probably staged that shooting to gain my trust.” I take a puff from my cigar and hold the smoke inside my mouth before slowly letting it out.
“That would mean he had a way to contact someone while in the safe house,” Seb states, giving me one of those unperturbed stares of his. I get why people feel drawn to him; he has that leader trait—decisive, strong, unapologetically himself.
Marco tsks. “The rifle Vince found in the abandoned building in front of the safe house was used in another shooting from six months ago where some of Enzino’s men were involved. Curtesy of one of our detectives.”
Seb nods. “Then why didn’t Jack Enzino come to me? Why didn’t he retaliate for kidnapping his son?”
“He did. He shot at them,” Marco reminds him, blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth.
“You think he’d risk killing his golden goose? The wedding is in sixteen days. He’d lose more than he’d gain from Arturo’s death right now.”
I give Seb another scenario. “How about Coretti? Maybe he found out about the kidnapping. Your informant said he hasn’t been happy with how the negotiations with Enzino are going, so maybe he used the information and tried to force the other don’s hand.”
“Your theory feels a little too shaky. Coretti likes to plan things thoroughly. He doesn’t act on impulse.” Seb taps his index finger on his lower lip in thought. “Whoever knows about Arturo being with us hasn’t shared the information…yet.”
“Did you talk with Coretti?” I ask him.
“He’s worried that Enzino is doing this on purpose, keeping his son away, pretending he has second thoughts just a few weeks before the wedding.”
“Wouldn’t that be counterproductive for Enzino?”
“Yeah, but that’s called a strategic play, bluffing to get what he wants. It’s just not the case here. Coretti let me know that his proposal of a wedding between his daughter and me is on the table again if Arturo stays AWOL.”
“He really wants her to get hitched.” Marco flicks the butt of his cigarette on the cement floor of the smoking area outside the club. Only nine days ago, I was here thinking my revenge wasfinally beginning with Arturo Enzino’s kidnapping. But now it feels as far away as it always has been. Especially after the swing and miss with Mario’s damn phone.
“Coretti wants his family legacy to keep going. He’ll vote for me to becomeil capo dei capiif I marry her and give him a nice slice of the cake.”
