“What?” Sal and Dwayne both shouted.
“You knew?” I asked Antonio ignoring the hotheads.
“Who do you think wrote up the contract. I was only in law school at the time, but I was good at what I did. When our father asked me to write up the agreement, he didn’t tell who it was with, but it didn’t take me long to put two and two together. What concerns me is why you continued the contract? I put a clause in there that the contract was null and void upon our father’s death. Why did you extend it?”
“I didn’t,” I stated honestly. “Marko and I went over that contract several times. There is no clause, Antonio.”
Antonio sighed, getting to his feet as he walked over to a small table near the front door. Reaching for his briefcase, he reached inside and produced some papers, which he then handed to me. “Is that the contract you and Marko looked at?”
Scanning it quickly, I shook my head no. “No. This is different.”
“Then you have a serious problem. I need to see the contract you and Marko have. This is the contract I wrote up for father. I was there and witnessed Bianchi and father both signing it. I will call Marko now and have him email it to me.”
“What the hell is going on?” Dwayne asked.
Looking at Dwayne and Salvatore, both men looked furious. It was bad when one looked that way, but having them both on the same page, well, that was downright terrifying. The two men never saw eye to eye on anything.
“I didn’t know anything about this until after father and Uncle Franco was killed. When I took over the family, I received a call from Bianchi. Marko was with me at the time, so he heard everything. Bianchi called to pay respects and ensure that he would continue his end of the agreement. I didn’t know what he was talking about. Neither did Marko. Then the fax came in. When Marko and I looked at it, Bianchi said that just because father was dead, that didn’t absolve the family from continuing the contract. I asked him to give me a day to look it over, and he agreed. Marko and I spent hours going over that contract. We found nothing that gave us an out, and with father’s signature at the bottom, my hands were tied. I didn’t want to start a war with Bianchi over some disputed contract, so I signed my name under fathers. Since then, Marko and I have been selling Bianchi guns while he uses our port to distribute his drugs.”
“This family doesn’t mess with drugs Gio!” Sal shouted angrily. “You know that. And since when do we deal in weapons? We are a legit family. Have been for years. We sell olive oil, clothing, all kinds of goods. Hell, we just branched out to the entertainment industry. You insisted on. And what about all of the charities Momma and Illyria are a part of? If word gets out this family is selling guns and helping a known drug dealer distribute his drugs, we lose all credibility. What the hell have you done?”
“I didn’t agree to this, Salvatore. My hands were tied.”
“You could have come to all of us. We would have helped you as a family. Instead, you made the decision yourself. When you took over the family, you promised us that anything that dealt with the family's well-being, you would talk to us before making a decision and when the first problem arises, you did exactly what father did. You ignored us and did what you wanted.”
“Reaper already knows, doesn’t he?” Dwayne asked angrily.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s why you wanted an alliance with the Skulls. You want the club to transport the weapons.”
“Yes.”
“And Reaper agreed to this?”
“Yes.”
Dwayne laughed, then cursed, “Fuck! Reggie told me that you were not mafia for years, and I started to believe him after a while. I fucking knew he was wrong. I fucking knew it, and now you’ve included the fucking Skulls in this shit. Reaper doesn’t fuck with drugs, asshole. I know him better than you. You can’t sit there and tell he went along with that.”
“He didn’t. You are right about him on that aspect. He said he would only transport the weapons.”
“So, who’s going to handle the drugs?” Dwayne asked me directly. Sitting back in my chair, I simply replied, “No one will.”
“What?” Dwayne asked, confused.
“Who’s transporting the drugs, Giovanni?” Sal seethed.
“No one,” I clearly said again, then grinned. “When Bianchi’s men offload the crates into our warehouse, Marko takes the crates and loads them into a van. He then transports them to a nearby metal factory where he disposes of them immediately.”
“The family’s foundry,” Sal said, sitting back down. “You have Marko throw the crates into the burning liquid before the metal is cast.”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit,” Dwayne said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And then you give Bianchi the money for the drugs as if you sold them yourself.”
“Yes.”
“How much does he get Gio,” Sal sighed.