Page 24 of Cara & Gian: The Guzzi Duet

Finally, the long driveway leading up to the massive house belonging to Edmond came into view, and Gian turned off the road. “I’ll call you when it’s over, Dom.”

“All right. And hey?”

“What?”

“Be careful,” his brother said. “A lot of people you don’t get to talk to that I get to talk to on the streets aren’t happy right now. You only chat with made men, I get the word from the soldiers, too. I think they might get to hear some shit being said from their Capos that you aren’t getting to hear at all.”

“Go on.”

“I told you—people aren’t happy, Gian.”

“That’s not news, Dom.”

“No, I don’t mean the usual younger guys having rifts with the older guys. I mean they’re looking for some kind of stability here, and coming up with nothing. That’s not good on the streets. It makes people fight about stupid shit to have something to do.”

Gian scowled. “Yeah, I got it.”

“So yeah … maybe be careful.”

He didn’t need his younger brother lecturing him on how Cosa Nostra—or the made men within the family—worked, but he let Domenic have his moment. If nothing else, to let his brother feel like he had done something useful.

“I’ll call you when I’m done,” Gian repeated.

He hung up the call through the Bluetooth before Domenic could reply. Soon, he had driven the long length of the Portella driveway, and parked his car, cutting the engine as he surveyed the circular entrance.

Gian did not like what he saw.

Cars.

Several cars.

Yet, not enough for it to be a formal family meeting.

Of course, he recognized the vehicles, and could name the men to whom they belonged. A significant portion, if not all, of the older generation of Guzzi made men. Not one younger man, or one closer to Gian’s age.

Except for him.

Gian stepped out of his car, not bothering to lock it as he headed for the front entrance of the large home. Edmond’s wife let him in with a quiet greeting, and pointed in the direction of the upstairs.

“You’ll find him in his office,” she told Gian.

“Grazie,” he thanked her.

Sure enough, Gian walked into an office that wasn’t entirely filled with made men, but held a significant number to pull weight. All of them, with their graying hair, slightly rounded bodies, and older features, barely spared him a glance as he entered.

Edmond sat behind his large desk, a glass of scotch in his hand, and a lit cigar in the other. “Took you long enough, Gian.”

Gian shrugged, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket. “Seems everyone else that you wanted to be here must have gotten a call before me, Edmond.”

“Oh, it isn’t that, now. I made a call to Matthew and he called a few more.”

Matthew, the older Capo in question, tipped his glass at Gian in greeting.

Gian offered nothing in response.

His attention was back on Edmond instead. “We both know that there are a lot of issues right now within the family, between the generations of men, and this isn’t going to help, Edmond.”

“I’m not sure I get what you mean.”