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The lone word nearly stopped Vincent’s heart. “She’s with the Russians? Why?”
“Because she’s one of ours. Isn’t that reason enough?”
“They know?”
“They may have known before we did,” Corrado said. “This is spiraling out of control. Up until now, you’ve taken a backseat, but that can’t happen anymore. This isn’t going away.”
Vincent knew that, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Where are the Russians keeping her?”
“Joey didn’t know.”
Vincent’s brow furrowed. “I thought his name was Johnny.”
“Joey, Johnny . . . what’s the difference?” Corrado started walking away. “I took care of the body. You can clean up the mess.”
Vincent headed back down to the basement, cautiously making his way to the safe room. The concrete floor was soaked in red, splatters of it on the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how Corrado managed to do that, but he didn’t plan to ask.
He’d learned long ago never to ask for details.
* * *
The rain outside was so heavy Carmine couldn’t see the tree line a few hundred yards away. He gazed out the family room window in such a trance that he didn’t hear footsteps approaching. He caught a glimpse of Corrado’s reflection in the glass and grabbed his chest, wincing as he turned around. “You scared me.”
Corrado unbuttoned his soiled shirt. “You aren’t very observant.”
“You’re just stealthy, like a fucking ninja.”
Ninja. The moment he said it, he felt like he had been slapped. Tears tried to force their way from his eyes, but he held them back in front of his uncle.
“You watch too much television,” Corrado said. “The mark of a successful assassin is the target never knowing what hit him.”
Carmine stared at him. “I’m not a target, though . . . at least I hope not.”
The corner of Corrado’s lips tugged into a small smile as he lit the fireplace. After the fire waged, he tossed his shirt into it and watched it burn. “I remember when you and your mother went missing. A few of us were at your house, and you were late. Vincent sent a car, but it came back empty. Driver said you were already gone. Despite your father’s fear that night, he did what he had to do. He learned to wear that calm mask well, but I knew him better than most.”
He poked around in the fire, the shirt already burned to ash. “You and him are cut from the same mold—too emotional, too invested in life on the outside, and that can be dangerous. People will exploit it for an upper hand, and both of you share a weakness.”
“What’s that?”
Corrado looked at him like it was a stupid question. “Your women, Carmine.”
“Doesn’t everyone have that problem, though?”
Corrado shook his head. “Most are incapable of loving anyone. Their wives are like their cars and their houses. They feel like they’ve earned them, they take care of them, they show them off, but if push comes to shove, they’d sell them out to save themselves.”
“Is that how you feel?” Carmine asked. “I always thought, you know, you and Celia . . .”
“I do love Celia,” Corrado said. “The difference is I can’t be manipulated. They used Maura to force your father to do their business, just as Haven will be used to get you to do what they want.”
“You think that’s why they kept me alive?”
“I’m sure of it. We’re all pawns, Carmine, and if you aren’t careful, you’ll play into their hands. Exposure isn’t good in our world. I hope, since you’re so much like Vincent, you’ll learn to put on that mask. I already helped him bury Maura. I don’t want to go through that again.” He turned to walk away. “And pack a bag, for God’s sake. It looks suspicious to get on a plane with no luggage.”
* * *
They landed in Chicago close to dusk that evening and made the twenty-five-minute journey from the airport to the Morettis’ house in silence. Carmine watched out the window in a daze. He hadn’t been back in years, but the neighborhood looked exactly like he recalled. They passed Tarullo’s Pizzeria and Carmine closed his eyes, unable to look as they neared the alley where his life changed.
Corrado pulled into the driveway of the large brick house. A frazzled Celia stood in the doorway, and Corrado barely gave her a glance as he passed. She offered Vincent a sympathetic smile, and Carmine tried to slip by her, but she grabbed him for a hug.
