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I needed to be more like Luca. I needed to be hard, knife-sharp, ready to kill, to fight for what I believe in no matter what.
If I couldn’t, nobody would.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand. “Let’s go see your uncle. Find out if there’s even still a family worth fighting for.”
I nodded and let him guide me out the driver’s side door and onto the sidewalk.
Vincent stood up on the stoop watching us. He turned and knocked on the door as we approached. Nothing happened for a few breaths, and I wondered if we got the wrong place, if Diego was wrong about where the Don would be.
But then the door pulled open and Roberto was there, bald head gleaming. He wore a pair of dark pants and a tucked-in white undershirt. There was blood staining the bottom right, like he’d been shot in the side.
“Took you fucking long enough,” Roberto said. He stepped aside and let us enter, giving me a flat stare that I couldn’t read.
We walked into a modest living room. Plush pea-green carpet, patterned wallpaper, TV from the eighties. It smelled like kitty litter and stale crackers. Uncle Luciano sat on a brown leather recliner next to a blue upholstered couch. His right leg was extended out on an ottoman and a heavy-looking white bandage was wrapped all the way around it and stained slightly with blood. He had a white undershirt on and a pair of gym shorts.
The door slammed shut behind us. Roberto crossed his arms and glared at me.
“There you all are,” Uncle Luciano said.
Vincent walked over to his father, knelt down next to him. “You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” Uncle Luciano said, putting a hand on Vincent’s shoulder.
“You’re hit,” Vincent said.
“Dr. Chen helped me out,” he said. “Roberto too. We’ll survive.”
Vincent nodded, eyes hard. “What happened?”
“I knew that something was coming,” Uncle Luciano said. “I knew the Jalisco were planning something when we found hints about it on that laptop. But I couldn’t know how fast they’d hit, or how hard.”
“I heard they came with serious firepower,” Vincent said.
“Serious, yes, that’s one way of saying it.” Uncle Luciano grimaced. “Assault rifles, hand grenades. They came like it was a war zone, and they tore my home to fucking pieces and killed too many of our men. I barely got out, and would have died if it weren’t for Roberto.”
Vincent looked at the bodyguard and nodded his head. “Thanks, Roberto.”
“Doing my job,” Roberto said.
“I see you’ve joined forces with your cousin,” Uncle Luciano said, looking at me. “I’m glad you made it out, Clair.”
“My mother didn’t,” I said.
“I know,” he said. “The Jalisco have already been in touch.”
“How?” Vincent asked.
“Called Roberto here.” Uncle Luciano laughed. “Called his goddamn cell phone. I don’t know how they got his number.”
“I don’t either,” Roberto said.
“What did they want?” I asked.
“They wanted to sell me your mother.” Uncle Luciano shifted his position and let out a grunt of pain. “They’re trying to ransom her.”
“What are they asking for?” Luca asked.
“Your money, Clair,” he said. “All of it.”
Silence fell over the room, thick and heavy.
“They can’t possibly think she’ll do that,” Vincent said. “Fazio left her… left her a damned fortune.”
“Maybe,” Uncle Luciano said, staring at me, his eyes not moving from mine. “Maybe she wouldn’t.”
“If she gave it to them, that would only make them stronger,” Vincent said. “Too strong to crush, at least for a while. It would prolong this war by years, cost more lives, more pain and suffering.”
“I agree,” Uncle Luciano said.
“Too many people would die,” Vincent said. “We can’t let them have the money.”
“I’ll pay,” I said.
Everyone stared at me. Vincent looked outraged. Uncle Luciano only smiled. And Luca moved closer to me, his hand coming out to rest on my hip like he was trying to claim me as his own, or maybe to protect me, I couldn’t be sure.
“Will you now?” Uncle Luciano asked.
“No,” Vincent said. “Absolutely not. You can’t be serious, Clair. You give that kind of money to the Jalisco, and I promise they’ll make you pay. They’ll make the whole city pay in blood. We can’t do it, not even for family, not for anyone.”
“I’ll pay,” I said again. “Whatever they want. I don’t care.” I stepped forward, staring down into my uncle’s eyes. I wanted him to know I was serious, that I’d go to any lengths necessary, do anything I had to do, so long as my mother survived, so long as she came back to me.
Vincent looked horrified. He stared at me, looked at his father, then turned to Luca for support. “Come on, Luca,” he said. “You can’t think this is a good idea.”
“I’ll do whatever she wants,” Luca said.
“Is that what you really want to do, Clair?” Uncle Luciano asked.
“Whatever it takes,” I said. “I’ll do whatever it takes to bring her home.”
