Page 34 of Bene

Not to mention, his father’s coveted, custom Rolls-Royce.

The second Bene stepped out of the car, Marcus arched a brow, and smiled faintly from his position on the sidewalk. He’d be a liar if he said a part of him didn’t want to wipe that fucking smirk from his older brother’s face.

If only because …

“Do you enjoy making me run all over the city like a cafone?” he asked.

Marcus shrugged one suit-covered shoulder. “My right, no?”

“Well—”

“And their right. The boss thought you needed a reminder about what this life was really like, and just how lucky you had it, Bene.”

He understood a lot of things then.

First, his brother called Gian the boss. Not dad, or papa, like he usually would when they had a conversation about their father, and words mattered. Right now, words mattered more, and calling him the boss meant only one thing.

This wasn’t family time.

This was business.

“What’s going on?” Bene asked.

“We needed to make sure you could clean up your act, and get back to business before someone vouched for you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

He thought he did.

Was this … “Am I getting my button tonight?”

Marcus lifted his hand to show three cards he held. Saints. Even from Bene’s position ten feet away, he could see the different religious figures on the cards, and he knew he had been right about his assumption.

“Pick your saint before we enter, and you speak the omertà.”

“That’s why you had me running like crazy?”

“Part of it.”

Bene had another thought, then. “Am I getting my button because Dad’s worried someone might kill me otherwise, or is it that he thinks I earned it?”

Marcus didn’t answer right away.

He didn’t like that.

“Well?” he demanded.

“Is being a made man what you want, or not?” Marcus asked.

“Of course, it’s what I want.”

“Then, pick your saint, Bene, and let’s get this night started. The boss has places to be this weekend—we’re handling famiglia business, it’s the boss—so let’s not make him wait, so that he can finish this, and take his wife out of town for the weekend like he promised her.”

Well, then …

“Saint John the Apostle,” Bene said.

Marcus smiled. “The saint of loyalty. Smart choice. Keep making those, and you’re going to be just fine tonight, little brother.”

His palm stung.