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Ellie
My heart freezes when a familiar Porsche pulls up the dirt road. It’s like a storm cloud just formed over my head. My surroundings grow dark. I can’t think straight.
Don Gio… The worst of the Valentinos – as far as I could tell – has come to grace us with his horrible presence.
I latch harder onto Donny’s arm and notice something is amiss about him. He’s acting cold. There’s no reassurance in him. Does his father have that strong of an effect?
A shivering thought runs through me…
Did I… make a mistake by saving him?
Questions won’t stop racing around my head. If he’s here, that probably means news of the Russians. How can I rely on Donny’s grand plan if he folds like a piece of paper in front of this old snake?
Donny peels my fingers off him.
“Does he still not know about us?” I ask, my voice quivering.
“Stay put. Help Sabrina in the kitchen,” he tells me without so much as a glance.
Sal and the Sicilians gather around the dining room table, with Donny standing at the head of it.
The door clicks open, and in limps Don Gio with his behemoth body guards at his heel. The tap of his limping loafer radiates through me like a solemn drum. I shiver at the sight of him.
The grimy smile, skunk-colored hair, putrid cackle like he’s always looking at a young girl he wants to ravage… It makes me want to die.
I retreat deeper into the kitchen with Sabrina so he doesn’t pay me any mind, but I listen.
“Donny Boy. You’ve been making waves on the streets.” Gio snickers from the other room. His voice is a bit muffled, but I can make out all the words.
I run the water low so I don’t miss anything.
“Attracted too much attention, perhaps.” Gio paces around the table, his clacking limp like radar to his position, greeting each of the crew with a double-kiss on the cheek.
“It was a misstep, for sure.”
“Very unlike you, Donny boy.” Gio clicks his tongue.
“Yo, boss. It was a blind hit. Who would expect one of the Lucrazis to retaliate at a hands-off meeting? Hasn’t been done since the dawn of the Cosa Nostra.” Sal laughs nervously.
“Ah.” Gio pinches Sal’s cheek hard. “These days we have to be prepared for anything and everything unorthodox, my boys. Loophole changed the game when he took over the Shadow’s post. Now there’s copycats running amok.”
“Noted, Pop. Now down to business.” Donny’s voice gives me a glimmer of hope.
Gio cackles. “Always business with you, son. Never play.”
“That’s what he’s got me for, boss. I do all the playing for him.” There’s a rattle of dice – Sal.
Gio cackles again. “You, on the other hand, play too much.”
The table laughs at that.
Then when the laughter dies, I can feel the tension in the other room. Things just got serious.
“The Russians made contact. We’re on. One week from tonight. Details in here.” Something like paper slaps the table, Gio’s heavy finger is tapping it. “Get all your chess pieces in place, son. Delivery – snow and bird. And when all green is transferred, you make the hit on Igor. Then the hitman disappears back to the old country.”
There’s silence for a long minute. I guess Donny nodded in agreement or something.
“I want back up if our main man Terry folds under pressure. Which one of you is it going to be? Huh?” I imagine Gio pointing to the Sicilians.
