“And what business do they have?” Sal asks.
“Ironically, it’s family business.”
“Your family business. What would an Albanian grandson of a don be doing working for me?” Dante asks.
“I did it to keep an eye on Argon; he was fucking up with your bars and I wanted to protect him. Then he ended up dead on vacation, but I don’t think you guys did it. Since he died of the same drug as De Luca, I’m trying to figure out who killed them both. It has to be the same killer, right?”
“Yes.” Francesca joins the table standing behind Sal. “We want to know who framed Dante.”
“I haven’t learned much of De Luca’s operation; they owed us money, and I have a feeling someone inside his house is stealing from him. That’s why I paid him a visit in Rome. We made things right, and it bought him the time he needed to find out who was making him look bad. Then he died.”
“His underboss would have the most to gain, Gambino.” Dante sips his drink.
“No, De Luca has a son he’s primed to take over. Giovi.”
“Wait, Gambino was in the same hotel with Argon,” Sal says. “What are the odds he’s at both events? The murder of Argon sets Dante up to look guilty, as does the murder at your wedding.”
“Who was near you that could have planted that vial on you?” Francesca asks Dante.
“It’s not like we haven’t been over this a million times in the past month, guys, it was my wedding day, I had a few drinks, and the wedding planner looks guilty as hell. We just need to know who the fuck she really is.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Her ID says she’s Gabriella Loren, but that’s not her name and we need to find out her real name,” Marchello explains.
“And, while we’re on the topic of who’s who tonight,” Dante stomps out his cigar, “why should we not take your life for infiltrating our business? It makes sense as it just so happens, we wanted Argon dead to send a message to that pompous grandfather of yours. He’s such an ass. We have to protect our own, but you in our ranks is inexcusable.”
The way Dante delivers his words is that of a killer: calm, no fuss, emotionless.
“True. However, I’ve done nothing wrong. I was looking to find information on Argon, and then De Luca died. I was looking for an out after I met Valentina. It was dangerous to do what I did for sure, even a bit impetuous. But I want to get to the bottom of both murders as I’m engaged to De Luca’s daughter and her brother should be the next in line with the Cosa Nostras, not Gambino.”
“What are you not telling us?” Francesca asks.
Hm, one killer to another knows tells, and she read something on my face.
“Like what?” I play it off, hoping I’m wrong.
“You look like Marchello, the two of you in the room together—it’s like watching fucking twins. You have the same mannerisms. How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“I’m twenty-six,” Marchello exclaims and coughs on his cigar smoke.
“Holy fuck,” Dante mumbles. “You’re our half-brother, aren’t you?”
26
Valentina
Inotice Massimo has been with the guys at their table making guy-talk. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.
The girls are all taking pictures and talking as we finished eating an hour ago and the dancing is subsiding. Mostly only immediate family is left. I’m lonely and step out front to call my brother. I see Savio and Micro hanging around in the cold night, so I’m safe.
“How are you?”
“There’s been some Molotov cocktails going off in the streets. It’s not safe down here. Mama stays home and we have everything delivered.”
“Oh shit. Giovi, you need us.”