Page 6 of Dishonored

Angelo quieted.

A tic showed in his jaw.

Yes, this was making Caesar feel much better.

Soon, he would be gone, too.

All good things.

“Until I figure out what to do with you,” Angelo grumbled under his breath as he scrubbed a hand down his jaw, “things have changed here since you were in New York.”

That piqued his interest.

“How so?”

“The Camorra family on the west end—they’ve begun moving into our streets.”

Caesar nodded appreciatively. “Someone has big balls.”

Because the Accardo family was a force to be reckoned with in Philly. They were too large, and had far too much control of the area to be challenged by a rather small Camorra clan when put in to comparison. And the two criminal organizations were a world apart from one another despite both being Italian based.

One, structured like a pyramid.

The other, structured more like a horizontal line.

And when a family took one clan down, five more might pop up from the ruins because of their structure. Caesar had to give them that—Camorra clans were fucking resilient. That was just about all he knew regarding them, though.

Cosa Nostra was his thing.

Very little else.

“Yes, well, balls or not,” Angelo said, anger coloring his tone again, “they need to go. I won’t have them causing me these kinds of problems regardless of what they want. And until things are settled here—your brother and the rest of my men are still a bit sour with you from all the shit you pulled a few months back—you’re handling that issue.”

Caesar stiffened. “What, the Camorra clan?”

“Yes, get rid of them. Make them a deal. Wipe them out. Just … do something, Caesar. Be useful for once.”

He brushed that insult off.

One of many.

“I can probably handle that,” Caesar said. “Someone needs to have eyes on my streets—Capo business never stalls.”

Angelo smiled then—thin, and cold. “Someone has been, son. Daniele, actually. He’s really stepped up in your absence.”

Caesar kept his expression blank, but he still heard the underlying threat in his father’s words. He heard what the man didn’t say.

Daniele could and would replace him.

Easily, likely.

The fucker could try.

“But for now, I’m having a dinner tonight with a few of the men from the family, and your brother,” Angelo added. “I think you could make the effort to sit at the table, and be some version of pleasant. Can’t you?”

Caesar started listing names in his head.

Names of men in the family.