Page 280 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

He was just one of three high-ranking men in the Marcello family. Killing the underboss—as no one outside the family was aware that Andino had taken control of the Marcello organization—was not going to cause the family to crumble. There were still two other men with heavy influence and control.

Darren was greedy.

He made rash decisions.

He was violent.

Stupid, though?

No, he wasn’t stupid.

The one enforcer stayed back a step, and kept hold of the flowers as Andino and John stepped up to the entrance of the rundown business. The other enforcer—the one Andino had snapped at—came to open the door of the place, and let John and Andino inside.

John let Andino go first, as a boss should, and then followed right behind. He was entirely unsurprised by the ripped up floors, overturned tables, and wires hanging from an exposed ceiling. Who knew who owned this place, but John was grateful for the venue. It didn’t look like the place had been used in a while, or that anyone had worked in it for God knew how long.

It meant less clean up.

Less lives lost.

Small blessings.

Darren Calabrese stood in the middle of the floor flanked by three men. He kept his hands folded at his back as he stared expressionless at John and Andino. None of them moved until the other two Marcello enforcers had also entered the restaurant, and stood waiting behind their respective boss.

It was all about the respect in Cosa Nostra.

John doubted that would ever change.

“I’m happy to see you can follow direction,” Andino said dryly. “Three men to you, and three to us.”

“Inside,” Darren agreed.

John smiled. “We’re aware of your men outside, and how many there are. We had a three block radius scouted before we ever even came within five miles of this place today, Darren. We’re not stupid.”

Darren’s cheek twitched, but otherwise, he gave nothing away. “I can assume the two of you brought a small army of your own, then.”

“You can,” Andino said.

“Where is Dante?” Darren let his arms fall open to his sides, as though he were asking for some kind of gift to be handed to him. “I thought I would be dealing with the boss today, and not his underboss, and a useless Capo, too. What good does that do me?”

John let the insult roll off his shoulders. It wasn’t meant to do anything but be fucking offensive, anyway. “It wasn’t very fucking long ago that you too were nothing more than a Capo, Darren. It would do you well to remember that.”

Darren altogether ignored John, not that it was surprising. After all, the asshole had spent a whole week sending John package after package detailing how much of a shame he thought the Marcello man was.

“The boss?” Darren asked Andino again. “Where is he?”

“You are looking at the boss of the Marcello family,” Andino said, smirking just enough to look self-serving and smug as fuck at the same time. It was a look to be respected and appreciated, really. “I can’t help it if you’re unable to keep up with the politics of families outside of yours, Darren.”

The enforcers flanking Darren passed looks between one another. Darren, to his credit, barely blinked a lash at Andino’s admission. It didn’t matter—John knew the truth. The damage was done for Darren with his men in that moment. He had likely assured them that this would all go exactly according to his plans because he knew all there was to know about the Marcellos.

The truth was clear now.

He knew nothing.

It was simple, but effective.

A man needed all the faith and trust from his men that he could get in this business. It was the one thing that might save his life, or end it at one point or another. It was a good lesson to learn, and one of the first John had ever been taught when it came to being a made man navigating this very dangerous life.

“Then you misrepresented to me what this meeting would be,” Darren said, taking a step forward. “This is a farce, and I can’t say that I want to continue—”