Page 104 of The Hidden Heir

Whatever comes next, I’ll face it.

The whole fucking Camorra can burn down, as far as I’m concerned. I’ll drop everything, as long as I have Valentina and Michael back safe and sound. Fuck it, I’ll move us to another city, another country. None of it matters, not anymore.

“No,” Joseph says, “I don’t think any of us are ready to cast a vote tonight.”

“I am, and I’m not the only one,” Mancuso replies, earning himself a few nods from around the table. I make a mental note to deal with the Greco and Rossi syndicates later down the road, provided I survive this.

Joseph shakes his head. “I’m giving you forty-eight hours, Luca.”

“For what?” I ask.

“To plug whatever hole you’ve got in your organization, no matter the cost. Forty-eight hours, and then we’ll reconvene,” he says, “out of respect for your years of proven and consistent leadership. Aside from Mauro, who has a personal bone to pick, I’m hoping the rest of the table agrees?”

In different circumstances, I’d say this entire meeting was anticlimactic at best. But it isn’t. It’s a mixed bag. On one hand, I’ve earned myself a reprieve, judging by the reluctant nods Joseph gets in response. On the other hand, it’s a very short reprieve. Everything could change in forty-eight hours, and not for the better.

I’ll take it, though. It’s better than nothing.

Outside the building, I wait by the car. Solomon’s behind the wheel, scrolling through message updates. There’s been no movement on any of the fronts, and I’m starting to feel as if I’m standing in my own personal purgatory, which is slowly but surely eating me up inside.

When Caroline and her father walk out. I catch up to them.

“I know it’s you,” I tell the old man. “I don’t know how you’re doing it, but I know it’s you. I’ll get my family back, though.”

“And I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about,” Mancuso shoots back.

“Come on, relax, Mauro. There aren’t cameras around, no concerned dons to buy into your bullshit theatricals. I know you have Valentina and Michael, just as I know you have my brother. If ever there was a good time for you to start making some lucrative demands for yourself, this would be it. This is your opportunity to get what you want. What is it?”

Caroline remains still, glued to her father’s side, but she doesn’t say a word.

I can’t read her expression anymore. Concern, fear, calculation. It could be any or all of the above. As long as the old man is still kicking and screaming, however, she lacks the authority and the power to put an end to this. So, I must do it for her.

Mauro scowls. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my years on this earth, Luca, it’s patience. Everything leads somewhere, and that somewhere always turns out in my favor one way or another.”

“I’m trying to understand your endgame, when you have me standing before you, right here, right now, asking for your demands,” I reply.

“All in good time, my boy, all in good time.”

Caroline’s brows are furrowed in confusion, but she keeps her thoughts to herself, choosing to accompany her father back to their car. I watch them with dark eyes, analyzing every fucking gesture and movement, until they disappear inside the bulletproof Mercedes.

“I’ve got eyes on them,” Solomon assures me from behind the wheel.

Precisely three seconds after the Mancusos’ car turns the corner, one of ours follows from a safe distance. We’re already spread thin. Something’s got to give somewhere eventually.

“Good,” I tell Solomon. “We need eyes and ears everywhere. Mancuso’s got my family. He’s building up to something.”

“You’ve still got us, Mr. Petrucci.”

And thank fuck I do, because as much as I’d love to go old school on the dons’ ancient asses, I can’t bring the Feds and the cops into this madness. I can do something else, though. Something I didn’t think of before.

Closer to midnight, I find Ethan Reece in his office, going over some case files.

As soon as he sees me standing in the doorway, he frowns. Behind him, the precinct is quiet and dimly lit. There isn’t much activity downstairs either. It’s as if the entire city has chosen peace tonight.

“What brings you here, Mr. Petrucci?” Reece mutters, choosing to flip through another file, instead of getting himself fully invested in my presence.

“Someone kidnapped my wife and nephew.”

He stills and looks up, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and concern. “Are you serious?”