I should have taken the back door. Using the front door was a rookie mistake. Plus, if I’d gone through the back, I could have grabbed a snack. Maybe even caught the cook cleaning up for the night. The chance to pick his brains about the butler’s niece would have been much better than whatever hell this was.
I stopped on the threshold. “Sir?”
My grandfather’s gaze swept over me. “What is—what is this?”
Some of the buttons of my dress shirt were gone. My hair was a mess, since I hadn’t bothered to comb it after Rae had dug her claws into me. And there were patches on my knees from where I’d knelt in the mud as I fucked her into the next dimension—where she’d dragged me with her.
Not the best presentation to a regal sonofabitch like Francesco Grimaldi.
“You’re covered in mud,” he sneered.
“I am.” I kept my spine ramrod straight.
“You canceled our meeting for—” he gestured at me “—manual labor?”
It had been decades since my grandfather worked the streets. Many of the capos took their lead from him. No, the only thing that kept the good old boys of the Grimaldi Famiglia out late were lavish parties—or hookers they hid from their wives. Not honest, good old-fashioned criminal work.
His snobbish attitude was disgusting.
“Sir, I told you this morning, meeting with Samuelson is a mistake.”
The don slapped his palm against the curling arm of the leather chair. “Tucker is a shrewd businessman, and his proposal is solid. Something you would know if you’d shown up to your responsibilities and attended the meeting!”
“His assets are rickety at best,” I countered. This was the exact same conversation we’d had this morning. Only, now I had the old man’s attention. It might be for all the wrong reasons, since he only stayed up to lecture me. He was never going to listen. “We’ll sink too much capital in Samuelson’s project. Even if we can make it back, one bad month or delay in the launch could risk over sixty percent of the famiglia’s liquid assets.”
“You think you’re so smart,” my grandfather scoffed and rose from the chair. He pulled the strap of his robe tight. “But if you were half as smart as you think you are, you would have come and listened to him. Tucker has his head on straight. Which is more than I can say for you, Dominico.”
“He wined and dined you, sir,” I snapped. “This is a bad plan.”
“Enough!” Purple splotches formed over the old man’s neck. “This is yet another instance of how not ready you are to take any real responsibility.”
I blistered on the inside.
No real responsibility? My father had me in charge of soldiers since I was sixteen. I did the work of a capo by age twenty-two. And then he had to go and die. I’d wasted time, doing unimportant work these last few years. This was my legacy, and all that stood in the way of it was a feeble old fool.
“The project will cost us,” I promised. “Just be sure you’re willing to pay.”
My grandfather waved a paw at me as he passed. “Pshaw. You know nothing.”
I know enough.And it was time to act.
Chapter 18 – Nico
“Icould’ve brought some M80s,” Luigi whined. “You gotta tell me next time, Dommy-boy.”
“Wicked fun, those,” Emanuele added.
Joey huffed. “And this isn’t fun?”
I flicked the lighter open and closed in my hand. The construction site was roped off from the road. The insurance would cover the damages to the equipment. And we’d done a sweep to make sure no one would be injured in the explosion.
“It’s a bad investment, nonno,” I repeated, keeping calm.
Looking up from his desk, my grandfather’s lip curled. “You have a lot to learn, figlio.”
The conversation from earlier roared in my mind. It took very little digging to uncover that the safety reports and the environmental surveys were falsified. Tucker Samuelson was taking advantage of my grandfather’s greed, playing into his desire for a legacy.
It was easy to see how convincing this project would be. A high rise, luxury block of condominiums along the Charles River would be a spectacular investment.
