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It’s a terrifying picture on this normally calm, assured man.
“Jason, where’s Tino?” I ask, not letting the quaver reach my voice.
“Tino’s knocked out, got him settled and came right here.”
Another breath of relief.
Knocked out isn’t great, but it’s better than dead, I suppose.
“What is going on here?” a man asks, and I recognize him as a town council member—an old friend of Carmine’s and a man who, according to Dante, receives regular kickbacks from the family.
“Sir, I think it would be a good time to step out. It seems there’s a bit of a family issue,” Dante says. “Emotions are high with my father’s passing, and Paulie is clearly struggling.” The man looks to Dante, about to nod and agree, but then Paulie speaks.
“Oh, what? You don’t want the world to know what a fucking traitor you are?”
“I don’t want everyone to know how fucking far gone you are and to start questioning the surety of the fuckin’ family, Paulie,” Dante says through gritted teeth, but I’m slightly relieved to watch a few people start to move, to walk toward the exit of the room.
“Family,” Paulie says with a brisk laugh. “What the fuck do you care about the family?”
“Paulie—” I try, the eyes in the room growing more intense.
This is family business.
Not for the world to watch.
“Shut the fuck up, you whore,” he says, and Dante’s body goes stiff. His eyes shift from wanting to get Paulie out of this room to wanting to beat his ass.
Jason sees it too.
“Man, don’t—” he starts, moving toward his friend, but Paulie turns to him
“Stand the fuck back. I’ll deal with you next.”
Gasps fill the room, several people pulling in air, and I look around at the memorial still filled with mourners.
But it’s also filled with the Carluccio family. Men. Made men.
My made men, in a way.
I needed that. That reminder that Dante and I are in control now.
This needs to end.
I stand straighter, rolling my shoulders back.
“Paulie, he has nothing to do with this,” Dante says, his voice calm and low, his hands at his sides moving gently, trying to appease his nephew as he takes a step closer.
Slowly.
It’s like he’s approaching a rabid, wounded animal.
I wonder for a moment if, like a rabid animal, we’ll be forced to put him down.
I wonder what that would do to Dante, taking out his nephew after what happened with Carmine. How much more would that hurt his soul?
Blood is thicker than water, but does it weigh even more when that blood is on your hands?
“You’re right. It’s all about you and that fucking whore,” Paulie says, turning from Jason to Dante, and I can’t help but think if I would be willing to sacrifice Jason, to make Bethanny fatherless, in order to save Dante.
