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“Yeah,” I said. “The dead one. I mean, the one that bled on me.”
“He as the acting leader,” Luca said. “The other two, I think those were his lieutenants. I recognize Bautista, but not the other one. Their network in this city is broken now, and it’ll take them months before they can get it up again, if they decide it’s worth the effort.”
I hugged my mom tight, kissed her, then stood. Luca stared at me, and I stared back.
I walked to him, let him wrap his arms around me, and I let out the sob I’d been holding deep inside for days.
“You’re okay, little darling,” he whispered, kissed my hair, and hugged me close.26LucaDon Leone hobbled across his office toward the huge mahogany desk. There were scorch marks all over the front, the rug was ripped and torn, the bookshelves smashed, the books decimated. Most of the debris had been cleaned from the floors and the windows were boarded up and taped over, but the office would never be the same, no matter how much work they put into it.
He let out a grunt of pain as he sat in a chair behind his desk. His leg was still wrapped in bandages, and his limp was even worse. I hovered in front of his desk with Clair standing close, our shoulders touching.
Don Leone looked up and smiled.
“I have to say, Luca, you did well.”
I nodded my head. “I did what I could, sir,” I said.
“You did more than well. You came through for the family.”
“I had help.” I looked at Clair and touched her hand. “She stepped up.”
Don Leone looked at his niece and leaned forward. His eyes seemed to simmer with light, life, and anger.
“You did more than you should have,” he said. “It never should have come to this, and for that, I apologize.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I just want to sign the papers and be done with this.”
He grunted and leaned back. He watched us for a moment, eyes scanning over our faces, then reached into a drawer and produced some papers.
“That’s it?” she asked.
“That’s it,” Don Leone said. “It’s all there, and feel free to have a lawyer go through it. I get two properties, you keep all the rest. You can—”
She grabbed the papers and began to sign each page without reading a word. I let out a little laugh, and when she finished, she shoved the papers back toward the Don.
“There,” she said. “Your blood money.”
He looked at the pages and I could see the greedy joy in his eyes. He looked back at Clair and nodded his head.
“I can understand why you’d think that,” he said. “But I promise you, niece, this was for the best.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “Just don’t bother me again. Do you understand? We’re done, me and you.”
“We’re done,” he agreed. “I won’t bother you or your mother so long as I live.”
She turned on her heel and marched to the door.
I nodded to the Don. “Thank you, sir.”
He nodded back and a smile spread across his face. “No, thank you,” he said. “Couldn’t have done this without you.”
“And unfortunately, it’s the last thing I’ll do.”
Don Leone narrowed his eyes, and I saw Clair pause at the door out of the corner of my eye, then slip into the hall and shut the door behind her.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I’m leaving the family.”
He rocked back in his chair and gaped at me. “You’re what?”
“Leaving,” I said. “I’m through with this.” I gestured around me. “Through with the family.”
“Luca,” Don Leone said. “You can’t just leave. You’re a made man. That’s for life.”
“It’s retirement then,” I said. “Just like Sergio. I made you a lot of money, Don, and now it’s time to let me go.”
Don Leone gripped the edge of his desk and slowly got to his feet. He struggled, grimaced in pain, but managed to stand on his own. He extended a thin, bony hand toward me.
I reached out and shook it.
“Go then,” he said. “And don’t ever say I was a bad Don.”
I nodded, released his hand and walked to the door.
“What was that about?” Clair asked when I came out.
I smiled and took her hand, pulling her from the room without answering. Roberto stood in the hallway, glaring at the two of us.
“Nice knowing you, Roberto,” I said. “You sour old fuck.”
Roberto flipped me off as I tugged Clair down the hall.
The place was a wreck. Lights were smashed and broken, walls were riddled with burn marks and bullet holes. Most of the paintings were ripped to shreds, though some survived the fighting. The carpet was stained with blood, ripped by glass and shrapnel, and otherwise ruined beyond repair.
Clair walked alongside me, back toward the main entry hall. The crystal chandelier made it through the fighting somehow, though it hung over a warzone.
