“I don’t have it.”
“Wrong answer.” I backhand slapped him hard across the face, the rings on my fingers drawing blood from the side of his mouth.
Tommy sputtered for a moment, taking a while to recollect himself. “Look—I don’t have it yet! All right? I don’t have it!”
I balled my fist and punched him on the other side of the face. “Still not the right answer, Tommy.”
“I don’t know what else you want me to tell you,” he said, his voice distorted from the blood pooling his mouth.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “I know you aren’t that stupid. You know exactly what I want you to say. So, let’s try this again. Where is my father’s money?”
“I’ll have it next week. I swear! I’ll have it next week.”
I stepped back and folded my arms. “Hmm…Next week.” Just for dramatic purposes, I swung my hand back, pretending that I was going to hit him again. Tommy cowered in his seat. I laughed. “I guess next week will do,” I said. “However, you better not be lying to me. Otherwise, I’ll be back, and I promise you, my next visit won’t be so fun.”
I put my hand under my jacket, right at my hip, creating the illusion that I was armed.
Tommy’s eyes widened, and he vigorously nodded his head. “Next week, I p-promise,” he stut
tered.
I clasped my hand at his shoulder. “Nice doing business with you,” I said, and then let myself out of the apartment.
CHAPTER 2
Giovanni
After leaving Tommy’s, I headed straight to my father’s office to report that I’d done my task.
I had something else to tell him as well though…
As I walked down the hall, heading to his office, several people nodded respectfully and fearfully at me, uttering quick and nervous hellos that I did not return. Everyone knew that I was Luca Romano’s son, which was a reputation that practically proceeded me everywhere I went.
It was a running joke that we Romano’s provided waste-management services. We were thought of as the city’s ‘sanitation crew,’ hired to be all the muscle the mafia needed. Whenever there was a mess, we cleaned it up and took out the trash; everybody knew that we didn’t leave garbage lying around at any cost.
When I reached my father’s office, I found him sitting at his desk, in the middle of a phone call. He nodded at me as I took a seat before him and crossed my feet on his desktop. Without missing a beat, he pushed my feet off.
“Yeah,” he said into the phone. “Trust me, it’s being taken care of.”
I began twirling my thumbs as I thought about what I wanted to say to him, and how I was going to plead my case.
“Yeah, all right. Bye.” Dad hung up the phone and eyed me. “All that nervous jittering you’re doing—you better have good news for me, Gio.”
“I visited your boy, Tommy. He says he’ll have your money next week.”
“Good. Because that little weasel owes me far too much. I’m done playing around with him.”
“Speaking of being done—” I said, standing up and beginning to pace the room, “—don’t you think it’s about time that I should be done with all those kinds of errands?”
Dad folded his arms across his chest and leaned back, narrowing eyes that were the exact same shade of amber as my own. “What do you mean by that, son?”
“Dad, I’ve been the capo for how long now? It’s time that I should get a higher role, don’t you think? What else can I do to prove myself? I feel like you’re stalling and just don’t want to give me more responsibilities. I’m your son, for crying out loud! I should have a higher role in our family business. I’m twenty-seven years old now. I don’t want to be stuck in the same position by the time I hit thirty.”
Dad sighed. “I keep you where you are because you’re good at what you do. That’s a compliment, by the way.”
“Yeah, but I can be even better at something else. How will you ever know if you won’t even give me a try?”
“You’re so damned impatient, Gio. I wonder where you get it? Must be from your mother, since you even sport her hair style these days.”