Page 36 of Effortless

Fast cars were a thing for Camilla, apparently. Tom had not forgotten what her father told him.

“Are you still there, son?”

“Yeah, just finishing up some business here.” The final paperwork was handed over with a nod from the man behind the desk. “Thanks.”

“Drive safe, sir.”

Tom was already leaving the office with a wave over his shoulder.

“What business?” his father asked. “It sounded like a car deal.”

“It’s nothing. Spending money. That’s all.”

“You are coming home soon, aren’t you?”

“Like I told Ma, I’ll be there in a couple of days as something came up I want to do.”

“Good. It’s time for you to get back to life, Tom. Here, I mean. Adriano’s been having nothing but problems with the crew since you took off, and he could really use your help to settle the guys again.”

Tom scowled as he exited the business. His rented Mercedes was still waiting at the curb, and running. A man stood beside it, and waited for him to hand the car back over now that he was done inside. At the moment, he was more interested in the conversation with his father than the car.

“What problems?” Tom asked. “Because I’ve called Adriano every couple of days just to check in and make sure nothing came up that he needed me for. He didn’t mention shit about issues with the crew, Dad.”

“It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, Tom.”

“And now he can’t handle it, or what?”

“More like he doesn’t want to. That’s his right as the—”

“First Capo of the crew. Yeah, I know.”

He didn’t need that damn lecture again. He was all too aware that being the secondary Capo for the Conti crew of the Chicago Outfit left him doing the dirty work Adriano didn’t want to do. It meant he got the difficult guys, the harder jobs, and the cleanup.

Most times, Tom didn’t mind. He had learned over the years that this was his road to travel in order to get where he needed and wanted to be in the business. He intended to be a boss. His father was determined to make sure Tom worked every fucking level in the family business that he possibly could before he came anywhere near the top.

“How was your break, by the way?” his father asked.

“We’re just dropping the crew conversation, then?”

“For now. Answer me.”

“It was … good.”

“Good. That’s all?”

“Interesting, Dad.”

Tommas laughed quietly. “I will have to take your word for it. I never found New York to be particularly inviting to me—for your uncle, Damian, or his kids, sure. Never for me.”

Sometimes, bad blood was impossible to wash out. Or, that’s what his father always told him where the New York families were concerned. Well, one family in particular. The Marcellos. It wasn’t really open for discussion between him and his father, but Tom knew the rules. For now, the Chicago Outfit bended to the demands of the Marcello family because they had control of New York, and the Commission made up of North American crime families.

“Did you find what you needed, or figure out how to deal with the issues back here?” Tommas asked his son.

“Figured out it feels a hell of a lot better to crush their face with my fist than it does to ignore them, and I get a better reaction out of it.” Tom nodded to the man who held open the Mercedes’s driver door, and slipped into the car. The engine purred under his handling. “But you always told me not to handle every disobedient man with violence because it only teaches fear, and—”

“Not respect.”

“Yeah, so I guess no, I haven’t gotten very much figured out. I’m more relaxed, though.”