Walking into my closet, I found one of my favorite suits pressed and ready to go. It felt good to not be dressing behind bars any longer. Even I would admit that there had been a slight hiccup in my plans, putting me there momentarily because I hadn’t expected my fucking son, my flesh and blood, to actually get one over on me.
It was a mistake I wouldn’t be making again. Despite the fact that he was weak, my former heir had some balls when it came to him turning tail and running to the feds.
I hadn’t given him enough credit for that.
Not that it mattered. He was dead to me. He had made his choices, ignored the fact that I could have made him the strongest don in all of New York, if not further, and chosen his path.
Same with my daughter. She had proven to be the same disappointment, not following through with my plans for her, and now she was in the hands of some weak fucking don that was rapidly losing his place. Served her right, thinking she could live without me.
Now neither of them would have my support going forward.
I dressed quickly, cinching my belt tightly. I had lost some weight in prison apparently. Of course, my body looked nothing like it had twenty years ago. I had been in my prime then, a powerful force that had turned more than one head. My name had meant something. People had feared me.
Now I was a fucking joke.
Disgusted, I adjusted the cufflinks, one of the few things I had left from my father. He had been the person I had looked up to in my youth, wanting to be the same ruthless don that he had been and give my fortune, my family name, to the next generation.
That, too, had been a disappointment. Well, it didn’t matter. I already had a plan for my future, for the future of the D’Agostino name, and it was the same one that I had tried to accomplish before my son had stepped in and ruined everything.
I would make my own heir again.
That wasn’t my only plan though. I was free from the prison, and while my lawyers sorted out the unpleasantness that had put me there, I was moving on to restore my name to where it belonged.
And Adrian Gallo was the perfect useful idiot.
I slid on my coat and adjusted the cuffs, staring at myself in the mirror. The look I was giving myself was one of confidence, the sneer something I was familiar with. I had been shat on by my own family, but I wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
The rest of the Dons turned their backs on me. The moment I had been arrested, no one would return my calls. They had sat at the table with me, ate my fucking food, drank my alcohol, and then they pretended like I didn’t exist.
Well, I was back, and they were going to pay for what they had done to me. They were going to wish they remembered where they stood relative to the D’Agostino name.
Because once I was done with them, there would be nothing left.
A smile crossed my face, and I smoothed back the hair remaining on my head.
***
An hour later, I sat at the table surrounded by the top Dons of New York. We all knew each other. We talked, we feuded, and we fought.
I hated them all.
Why they had accepted my invitation, I would never know.
Standing, I held up my glass, the ruby-red liquid reminding me of blood. How fitting to choose a fine red to pair with this evening’s meal then.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” I said smoothly, meeting their eyes.
There was a hint of wariness in some. They knew that the system couldn’t contain me. They knew and they acted against me anyways. Some didn’t see me as a Don any longer, but a washed-up old man still clinging to his past. They were blind.
I was about to prove them all wrong.
“I appreciate the loyalty you all have given me during my misunderstanding.” My voice was harsh and full of venom, with a few looking into their glasses and not at me, the one they had thrown to the wolves and forgotten about.
My hatred ran deeper than they could ever realize. I had expected to always be a don, to be one of them, but they had shown their true colors and given me the means for revenge.
Soon they would see what that would cost them. “The future of organized crime is on the move,” I boomed, filling the space.
We were in my basement, a part of the house I was in the middle of renovating. There were still plastic tarps on the floor and walls. I had specifically asked that we hold the dinner down here tonight, and the unease was palpable for those who came and saw.