Valentini laughed. "I think we’ll get along for sure, Aidan." He rubbed his hands together. "There used to be five families in charge of the wholeFamiglia. Five collectives who worked to keep the central line, the Valentinis, in check. It never failed us. Five is a check and balance, after all.
"Fieri annihilated my family, and eradicated one other, leaving behind the Genovicos and the Rossis. They were his lapdogs. His bitches."
"As far as we’ve come to know, the Sparrows started blackmailing theFamigliaback in the sixties/seventies."
Valentini nodded. "Yes, after my grandfather was killed they started to slither their way in. That would never have happened on our watch, but it is what it is. There’s no changing the past, but there’s letting it breathe new life into the future." He folded his arms across his chest. "My intention is to bring back the original way. It worked."
"Five families?"
"Five."
"Including the Rossis and Genovicos?"
His top lip quirked up in a snarl. "What do you think?"
"I think that, in my family, they’d be slaughtered like the pigs they are."
"And you’d be right. Now, I was raised in Sicily, but I’ve been back in the States for ten years." He rubbed his jaw. "Slowly, I’ve been building shit up to the point where I was going to trigger a war.
“Benito Fieri’s seat is my rightful place, after all.
“But before I could, this entire shit show went down with the Irish and the Russians, these Sparrow fuckers came to light, and, here we stand. The Fieris taken down by you, and your allies, theFamigliain tatters, and hundreds ofsoldatos,never mindcapos,running around like headless chickens."
I nodded. "They’re going to be a problem soon enough."
"You take away the elders, the rulers, and all of a sudden, you have young fucks roaming the streets, unchecked." He met my gaze. "I’ve gained a majority rule in theFamiglia, but when I consolidate power once this peace deal is brokered between us, you won’t have to worry about that. We’ll back off Irish territory, stick to our own—"
"What about Russian territory?" I questioned. "Your war is mostly with them."
"I know. Once I take over fully, I’ll see to it that I speak with the new Pakhan, broker peace with him as well."
"You’re being very conciliatory," I pointed out. "I’m not sure, in your shoes, if I’d be so diplomatic."
Valentini merely said, "I don’t appreciate having to speak with the Irish Mob’s golden boy to get what’s rightfully mine, but I’ve done worse over the years to reach this point.
“One conversation with you will save a lot of men’s lives, and seeing as how theFamigliais already on its ass, I think that makes me a smart leader, one who’ll go to bat for his people rather than leading them into a war they can’t win."
I believed him, and he spoke sense.
Shooting a look at Brennan whose poker face was, as usual, in play, I saw him make the tiniest of nods, and knew he and I were on the same page.
I reached up and rubbed my chin. "What do you want from us?"
And that was when we both got down to business, hashing out an agreement that, unbeknownst to the city, would have a detrimental effect on its streets for decades to come.
Valentini and I made history together in that moment, a history that wouldn’t be in the textbooks, that would never be discussed outside of this room and with these people, but it was groundbreaking nonetheless.
It also took hours. Hours of my Christmas Eve morning where I should have been waking up with my dick inside Savannah—a new festive tradition I intended to uphold for the rest of my fucking life—and stuffing my face full of Ma’s freshly baked monkey bread.
When Valentini and his men were driving off the compound of the cement factory we owned, one of many fronts in Manhattan, I turned to Brennan and asked, "Any news from home?"
He arched a brow at me. "No. Should there be?"
I scrubbed my chin. "I don’t know. The folks are a lot more fragile than I like."
"They’ll come around. They’re not the sort to let shit gather under their feet."
True, but... "This is different, and you know it."