“Yeah?” Dante picks up the phone after only a couple of rings.
“Call a meeting at the compound in two hours. I don’t care how hungover everyone is, they’ll be there.”
If Dante groans, he does an exceptional job of hiding it. “Sure thing, boss.”
“Don’t call me that. I don’t get off on it like Rocco did.”
“You’re sure already giving orders like him.”
I hang up without another word, scrubbing some life back into my face with my other hand. This is going to be a long day.
Only the bridal party was staying at the Plaza Hotellast night, so I’m not surprised that I recognize a couple of bleary-eyed faces having breakfast when I head down to the reception area to check out.
Most of them send me a respectful nod before turning back to their coffees. But one breaks away from the pack to approach me.
“Martino,” I greet the giant of a man warmly.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to congratulate you last night.” Martino slaps me on the arm, Entirely unaware that the gesture feels like getting smacked by a truck.
“Wouldn’t want to distract anyone from the bride.”
Martino’s smile wavers slightly. “Listen, Teo. I, er…I’ve been working for Rocco for five years now, and without him, I?—”
I raise my hand to stop him. “I’m going to need all the muscle I can get. You want to be my driver? Job’s yours.”
His face splits into a familiar grin. “You in deep already, boss?”
Yes,I don’t say. “Don’t call me boss.”
Martino salutes me mockingly. “Need a lift to the Guild meeting?”
“Please. I have a few calls to make.”
By the time Martino pulls up to the compound, Marco Chiavari is already waiting at the entrance for me.
I don’t break my stride as I greet the older man. “I didn’t see you at the wedding.”
“My daughter seemed to have everything under control,” Marco replies.
“Do you have any plans for her?” I ask.
Marco is silent for a few beats as we pass by the garage and the unsubtle stares of a few low-level goons hanging out there.
“Mia is her own person,” Marco finally announces. “She works for me on a freelance basis, nothing more. As far as I’m aware,she’s comfortable bartending at the Candelabraand keeping an eye on things.”
“She would be a strong asset to the Guild’s inner circle.”
Marco suddenly grabs my arm, pulling me to a stop. “You will not force her into this life.”
“She already has one foot in it.”
“One foot in the damn grave, boy,” Marco counters venomously. “Rocco had the good sense to stay out of it. I thought better of you.”
I regard the older man for a moment. He's the oldest surviving member of the Guild and perhaps the one that is most able to command the respect of his peers.
To demand something from him would be an insult, not only to the man, but to the legacy of the Guild itself. And we both know it.
Only, if I am to distinguish myself from my predecessor, I must rise to the challenge presented.
