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According to Dante, Vinnie is Carmine’s second and was in battle with Johnny.
“The old days were good. We helped, but it helped to keep us clean. It took the pressure off us. And the girl’s right—everyone has a phone; everyone wants some kind of viral video these days.”
“A community event could start rebuilding trust in the community,” I say, looking around. “It's a step into the future. A world where made men aren’t having fingers pointed at them, the newspapers gleefully covering their demise,” I say, staring at Carmine.
He doesn’t blink.
“We could hold it in River Park on third,” Silvero says, ending the staring contest when Carmine looks his way.
A slight look of shock covers his face, like he’s stunned that one of his men is on the side of the stupid little girl.
It’s only going to get worse, old man.
“What do you think, Carmine? For Liza?” I ask, and even though I don’t move my eyes from him, I can see from my periphery that Dante’s brow furrows.
Confused.
He didn’t hear the accusation Johnny made.
And I didn’t see fit to share without some kind of evidence.
That kind of information would kill him.
Finally, with a long minute between us, Carmine’s jaw gets tight before he nods. The look is filled with venom though, like he’s trying to tell me that I won’t get away with whatever I’m planning.
But that he’s also annoyed he can’t figure out what I’m planning.
“For Liza,” he says.
“So, it’s on. Teresa and I will plan it,” I say, a smile on my lips as I continue to stare at the Don I can’t wait to tear down.
And then, I do the unexpected.
Not unexpected for me, but for the rest of the family in the room, I’m sure.
I look at my wrist where a small, dainty watch is and I smile, putting my hands to the table and standing.
“It’s been real, boys, but I have plans. See you all later.”
The faces at the table look shocked, minus Marco and Dante who both look a mix of exasperated and humored.
And I know why.
No one stands before the Don.
No one leaves before Carmine does. It’s a respect thing, and by ignoring it, I’m delivering a fatal blow.
Good, I think as my heels click on concrete, and then Marco’s chair scrapes and his heavy footsteps follow me.
* * *
We get into the car, not even bothering to say goodbye to anyone, and when the door shuts on us, Marco turns to me.
“You did good,” he says with a wide smile.
“Did I?” I ask, half proud, half nervous. “I’m worried I went too far for the first time most of them met me.”
“No, it was perfect. Carmine’s men don’t like Paulie as it is and they remember what it was like when Carmine’s father, Anthony, was in power: easy, safer, community focused. They also all loved Liza from what I know.”
