Page 310 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

“You’ve got your good qualities, too,” Andino replied in kind.

Turning their backs to the bar, both men overlooked the quiet pub in comfortable silence. John enjoyed this—kind of needed it, really. It had been too long since he just sat down with Andino and did nothing.

“You must be busy as hell lately,” Andino noted, shooting John a look.

“Christ, you don’t even want to know.”

“Try me.”

“The Calabrese organization is a mess. Mind you, it’s a mess I can handle, and one I am handling just fine. It’s still a goddamn mess at the end of the day. I suspected a lot of the men would be difficult, and they are at times, but they’re coming around too.”

“How many did you have to kill to get them that way?”

John cleared his throat. “Half a dozen, or so.”

“Better than I thought.”

“Funny,” John drawled. “It’s not even the men, really. It’s more than that. Their business is shit, Andi. They’ve depended on their affiliations with other families, and small time gangs to keep their crews moving product, and making money. I don’t know if some of the younger made men even know how to go out on the streets, and hustle up a dollar. It’s fucking outrageous. Imagine being the boss who drove your organization to that kind of breaking point. They’re a goddamn shame.”

Andino smirked.

John didn’t miss it. “What?”

“Wasn’t it you and Siena they called the disgrace of your families? Seems they had something to be hiding in their own closets. Makes sense why the brothers were so adamant about trying to get in more on our business. A slice they could take and claim for themselves, I suppose.”

He scowled. “Yeah, well, now I’m left with what’s left of what they were trying to hide.”

Andino nodded. “Yeah, but you were always one of the best Capos the Marcello famiglia ever had, man. Those men have the best to learn from, John. You’re going to do fucking fine, and be raking in all the money.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that. “Better be. I don’t need to be wasting my time—I’m trying to live my life, for Christ’s sake, not spend the rest of it working the streets as a Don.”

“You’ll get it straightened out. I have no doubt. I see you’re all fucking dressed up, too.”

His cousin reached up, and flicked one of the silver buttons on John’s blazer.

“Armani,” Andino said, cracking another smug smile. “The boss only wears the best.”

“I’ve been wearing Armani since I was sixteen,” John said, shaking his head. “The thought of wearing different brands when I know this one fits me well, and doesn’t bother me, makes me want to stick an ice pick in my temple.”

Andino’s brow lifted high. “That’s a little … over the top.”

John shrugged again. “Being bipolar sometimes is.”

And he had his habits for a reason. Things he ate, and the stuff he did. The clothes he preferred to wear, and even the brand of shoes he had bought for years. He was always going to be a little particular, picky, moody, and obsessive.

It was just who John was.

“So what are you doing today?” Andino asked after another minute of silence.

“Taking a break from work to pester your dumb ass.”

Andino shook his head, and grinned. “After, I mean.”

“Taking my fiancée to meet Lucia.”

“Bit that bullet, did you?”

“I waited long enough,” John murmured. “I was not waiting one second longer.”