Page 96 of Effortless

“The politics of a crew, the streets, and the Capos,” Tom said. “I think it’s the wrong kind of politics for me, Adriano.”

“Probably.”

“You don’t sound surprised for some reason.”

“You’re a hell of a lot like your father, Tommaso.”

He scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Adriano rested back in the seat, unbothered, and seeming pleased to be driven around by someone else to do his business. “It means, there was once a time when your father was one of the best Capos in Chicago.”

“And then?”

“Then, he became a boss. He did that for one reason—something he wanted more than anything.”

Tom’s brow dipped in his confusion. “My mom?”

Adriano nodded once. “Yeah. See, he went into the boss thing because he had no other choice, but that man would be a damn liar if he ever said he thought he could go back to what he used to be.”

“Funny.”

“What?”

“I don’t think I could see my father as anything other than a boss.”

Adriano chuckled. “See? Like I said when we started this conversation, Tommaso, some men are simply made to be a boss. They’re not meant to be fucking around with all the other nonsense that makes this organization what it is. They work better at the top.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

His uncle reached over and hit his shoulder.

Tom looked over at Adriano. “What?”

“You might just be one of those men, Tommaso.”

Who knew?

Not him.

Tommas’s hands landed heavily on Tom’s shoulders. His father leaned over him to see what was on his plate. “Nice spread.”

Tom stabbed the fork into an egg, but his interest in food was very little. “I have to keep my energy up somehow, don’t I?”

“I suppose. Adriano says you’ve been throwing yourself into work, and keeping your head down. Any reason for that?”

“Nope.”

His father moved around the table, and took a seat in front of him. Tom continued shoving his face full of food in an effort not to have this conversation with his dad. Especially not now, and not there, at tribute. There were too many other men around to hear their conversation, and he wasn’t up for that.

“You haven’t been over to the mansion more than twice since you got back from New York,” his father noted.

“Work,” Tom reminded him.

“Mmm. How was it, anyway?”

“Work is fine.”

“Nice try. New York, I meant.”