That kind of sounds like a dig, but okay.
“Speaking of,” Lorenzo crooks his thumb over his shoulder, pointing behind him. “I was just talking to Settimo about you. He saysyou’refriends.”
I nod. That’s all I can manage.
“I thought it was a little weird at first,” he waves toward Paolo, “given you’re getting married and all. And, of course, your family doesn’t care for my brother.”
My face twitches.
“I was suspicious of you even,” his eyes move up, “and you too, Paolo.” Lorenzo laughs, but it’s all fake humor. He eyes dip back to me. “I actually thought you might be manipulating him. Maybe trying to get information about him to take back to someone. Maybe even for Paolo, since, you know, they’re not friends.”
I can’t see Paolo, but I can imagine the look on his face. Lorenzo is definitely suspicious. Paolo has to be pissing his pants right now.
“But Paolo wouldn’t do something like that, of course. Despite any grievances, we’re family, and you and I both know you don’t get to choose your family. I’m sorry you had to grow up with such… tactless men. But,” Lorenzo smiles, and I swallow. “You’reourfamily, now.”
Don’t talk to the Russians. Message received.
That doesn’t mean my father too, though, does it?
“Anyway,” Lorenzo swats the air. “Settimo cleared everything up for me. I just came over to welcome you and give my best wishes to the lovely bride-to-be.”
I nod and clear my throat. “Thank you… And congratulations. This is a really nice party.”
He smiles. “Amelia has exquisite taste.”
I don’t respond to that, although I agree.
Lorenzo looks to the right and seems to spot someone. He nods at Paolo and me. “Excuse me.”
And then he’s gone, off to terrorize someone else.
I’ve never felt so threatened by such “kind” words.
I turn back to Paolo, whose face is pale. He meets my eyes and sighs. “Do you believe me now?”
11
SETTIMO
Itap my fingers against the concrete wall and stare straight ahead. My entire body is hot, and if I had a mirror, I’m sure I’d see my face tomato red.
My foot props me against the wall, and I deny myself the need to push off it. If I do, I’ll start hitting shit.
Lorenzo, Anthony, and I are in an underground tunnel beneath an abandoned building. Someone in the familia discovered it decades ago, before I was born, and we’ve been using it as a meeting place ever since. There’s no cell reception down here, so no GPS tracking, and it’d be difficult for a wire to pick up anything through the static, on the off chance we have a mole.
We’re meeting Nikita. Finally, he’s agreed to speak to me directly, under one condition. Anthony has to be here. I don’t like that. For one, both of my brothers are here, and if this is some sort of set up, he could potentially take us all out. The agreement for these meetings is our men wait above ground so we have absolute privacy and neither party needs to worry about an informant blending in with our crews.
Nikita didn’t ask for Anthony so he could set us up, though. He asked for Anthony because he knows Anthony is the soft one. He’s the one most willing to make peace. Most people know this.
He also requested that Lorenzonotbe here. I don’t really blame him for that one, but it’s ridiculous to have a meeting without my underboss, so Nikita can go to Hell.
I’ve thought about sending him there today. So many times, and especially now that he’s ten minutes late.
Nikita returned the batch of heroin and called off our deal. We don’t sell small amounts to the Russians, so it was one point five million dollars’ worth of heroin. Blade made the call to test the product before deciding whether to sell it on the street, and all five of the homeless junkies he tested it on died. It was laced with fentanyl.
None of us have mentioned Nikita being late. None of us have even spoken. I’m trying to contain my anger, Anthony is shuffling his feet, and Lorenzo is standing with his hands in his pockets and staring at me with a blank face.
Footsteps sound in the tunnel, and all three of us turn in that direction. Nikita rounds the corner, along with his right-hand man. He meets Lorenzo’s eyes and sneers, but he doesn’t say anything. He stops a car length in front of me.