I nodded. He was right. My family looked at me like I was another trained soldier in the Morelli army. While we didn’t share the same last name, Sonny was my brother in every way. He was even more of a brother than my own brothers ever were to me.
“If anything ever happens to me, take care of her.”
Sonny bit the inside of his cheek, regarding me suspiciously. “Don’t talk like that.”
“Promise me,” I growled.
“Yeah, of course. I would protect her with my life. What’s all this talk about?”
“I killed the son of a Capo. Don’t you think he will want blood from my father?”
“You fed a junkie H. Drug addicts overdose all the time. How would they link it back to you?”
“We dumped him at the new development on the waterfront. The one my dad put Enzo in charge of after working out the deal with Carlini Construction.”
“Way to send a message.” Sonny nibbled on his thumb, one of his many nervous ticks. Biting on something was his tell. We all had one, and that was Sonny’s. “Now I see why you’re so worried about Gia. This could blow back on her dad.”
“Blood must be paid for with blood,” I told him.
“So, what are we going to do?”
“Wait, I guess. There’s nothing else we can do.”
Sonny didn’t like my answer. He thought we should make a plan. Sometimes, the man who smiled to your face was the one who stabbed you in the back. That’s how it worked in my world. You never saw a Wiseguy coming. So, what was the sense in thinking ahead of the enemy when we had no idea who would come for us?
Chapter Seven
Gia
One month later
Racketeering profits funded Carlini Construction, the mob-run development company founded by my father. I lived with that fact my entire life, one my mother had never come to terms with. I suppose, to some extent, it’d also shaped my future, made me a little rough around the edges.
As I stared out the window of my office, I thought of how many people my family had trampled over to get here. How many lives had my father ruined in pursuit of the American dream? We were as crooked as the Morellis, except we wrapped our transactions up in a neat package for our investors. Now, my father was a member of the City Council. We had everyone fooled, somehow managing to hide the corrupt, power-hungry parts of ourselves away from the public eye.
In addition to school, I worked at Carlini Construction. It was only temporary until my father could figure out an alternative plan. He couldn’t own this company and run for City Council. So, he signed it over to me.
I worked more than I slept. Most of the time I only saw Angelo at school or when he stopped by my office to take me out for dinner.
My secretary, Jennifer, pulled me from my trance when her silvery voice blared through the intercom on my desk. “Gianna, Mr. Rossi is on the line for you. Are you available?”
I rolled away from the window, slid my chair behind the large oak desk, and held down the button on my phone. “Yes. Put him through, Jen.”
Jennifer patched the call through, my ear burning at the sound of his deep voice. “Gianna.”
“What can I do for you, Mike?”
As the lead project manager for Carlini Construction, Mike Rossi was meaner than a pit bull on steroids. My father had insisted no man was better for the job when he hired Mike ten years ago, and despite his terrible manners, he was the most qualified and organized of our foreman.
“We have a new project I’d like you to work on with me. Angelo said you would personally handle the case.” His husky voice had the effect of someone clawing through the earpiece and drilling into my brain.
I smiled at the name Angelo until I realized he meant Angelo Sr., the devil who made my angel sin.
I held the receiver away from my ear as he continued, “Come up to my office around six. I’ll have Connie order us takeout from Vitale’s.”
I hesitated at first, now irritated this new project would require us to share a meal together, but I finally said, “Sure. Connie knows my order. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Great.” His tone softened as if I had just accepted a date from him.