“Lil Bobby,” he mused.
Bobby was another Capo in la Famiglia. There was a hierarchy. The boss, who ruled over everything, he was the one who was in charge. His underboss, the second in command, he typically took care of things, met with the men, handled issues, and so on. The consigliere, our father Giuseppe, who acted as an advisor to the boss. In Giuseppe’s case, he also gave legal advice and worked any cases for made men. Then there were the capos. In Providence, there were five men who made up this group. Gian, Lil Bobby, Nicky, Big Joe, and me. Bobby and Joe had been made before us, and they considered themselves our seniors. They were older and had taken part in our training and initiation, but they were old guards and it was time for some fresh blood to run the family.
Nicky was promoted around the same time as me and is loyal to Gian. Gian already had over half the family on his side. If he got Bobby it would be over. Big Joe’s opinion would no longer matter. He was trying to be civil here; he didn’t want to start a war, but forced retirement for men who wouldn’t follow was still an option.
“Set it up.” Gian told me.
A smile rose on my face. “You got it.”
This city is ours.
I pull my Porsche up to Annie’s apartment building at 6:00 AM sharp. There’s a bit of a thrill in being an asshole for me. Today is Annie’s only day off this week, and I’m about to wake her up to go running with me.
Selfish, that’s what my family would call it.
I’d call it a power move. She still needs to know I'm in charge here.
I pound on the front door to wake her. “Up and at ‘em” I greet with a smirk when she finally answers.
Her blonde hair is disheveled from being slept on, blue eyes still foggy with a hint of sleep, and she’s dressed in polka dot pajama shorts and a plain white v neck.
I take a second to admire her bare legs before bringing my gaze back to her face. Even half asleep and pissed off, Annie is gorgeous. There’s no denying that.
“What?” her groggy voice asks in a low growl.
“Time for training.”
Her left eyebrow raises. “Training?”
“Need to get your stamina up.” I lean against the door frame casually. “Let’s go.”
I give her a chance to make a cup of coffee that she brews in an old coffee maker. She senses my distaste. “What, you don’t like coffee?” she asks, leaning against the counter. Her legs are still bare and she has an arm wrapped around her in a feeble attempt to cover her tits.
“No, I don’t like that you make it in that.” Maybe I’m a bit of a coffee snob, but the thought of drinking something out of that old twelve serving coffee maker makes me cringe. Don’t even get me started on the cheap coffee grinds she uses.
She doesn’t engage in my coffee debate, instead, she takes her last sip from the ceramic mug and leaves me to get changed.
She emerges minutes later dressed in black yoga pants and a loose-fitting Providence High School t-shirt. Her hair is twisted into a bun on top of her head. She slips her sock-clad feet into a pair of worn-out sneakers and looks at me expectantly.
“Where are we going?”
I answer her question with a sly smile and lea
d her to my car.
She’s frustrated when I don’t give her answers, and honestly, I like her that way.
I like seeing her pissed off at me. I feed off her annoyance.
I drive us to Blackstone Park where there is an easy three-mile trail I like to run. She looks uneasy as I navigate through the woods.
“Where are we going?” she asks again, this time in a shakier voice. I wonder if she’s watched too many mob movies, and she thinks this is it, this is the moment where I clip her. I have whacked people in the woods, it’s a good method, but not here. This is one of my favorite places to visit, I wouldn’t tarnish it by making it a crime scene.
“Calm down.” I tell her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Her blue eyes look at me. “I think that's what everyone says before they hurt someone.”
I chuckle, her snarky comebacks aren’t even original, but the fact that she talks back to me is amusing.