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Inside the study, John peers at me. I’m here, so I may as well get my drink. John says, “Boyo looks like he’s hungry for a steak.”
Peter laughs, “And he’s not going to fuss about waiting until the cow is finished with it.”
John claps me on the shoulder. I shrug his hand off. I’m not in the mood.
“Stay hungry, my lad,” he tells me. “We’ve got business tonight and we’ll need that fire in your belly.”
I look up. John sees me draw breath to object.
He raises a finger. “Father’s orders.”
That means the subject is closed. Obedience to the head of the family is not optional or negotiable. Our father is head of the organization. His word is law. And none of us are ever going to forget it.
She probably wasn’t going to show up tonight, anyway.
I was a one-night stand for her. She used me to rip up her V-card.
I pour a stiff one and tell myself, Cheer up, Peter. You got exactly what you wanted.
It was the best night of my life. So why am I so defeated?
Next morning, the family gathers for breakfast at the big kitchen table. Father looks down the table at my sisters JoJo and Mary, Mary’s husband Connor, the O’Malley underboss, and us three brothers. Paul perks up when JoJo announces her friend Lucy is coming by, but he covers his excitement fast.
We know important family business is ahead.
Father stares coldly over his black coffee, all the way down the table at me. “What have you learned about the Morettis’ plans?”
Everyone falls quiet.
I look in his eyes. “What I told John. They gathered again yesterday. Mafia members from Boston and Los Angeles came, too.”
His look leaves me in no doubt that he’s disappointed.
“Something’s brewing,” he snarls. “They’re after a piece of real estate I’ve had my eye on. A casino downtown, ripe for development. I’ve talked with the owner. We’re close to a deal.”
He looks daggers at me. I shrug. “Short of busting into the compound and sticking guns in everyone’s faces, I couldn’t have learned much more.”
He looks around the table. “There’s a meet. Tonight. The Moretti family is looking to expand into downtown. They’ll try and muscle in on my deal. I’ll show them you don’t fuck with Liam O’Malley.”
“Why not snipe it, Dad?” I suggest. “Get the jump on them. Get to the guy, close the deal before the meeting. Leave them there with their dicks in their hands.”
You never know with Dad. Make a suggestion like that and he might put his arm around you. Tell you he always had faith. Clap you on the shoulder. Buy you a Corvette or a Bentley.
His face darkens. This is not one of those times.
He glowers and leans on his huge fists, pushing his knuckles on the table.
“You don’t show weakness in front of the Morettis. You show them who’s the fucking boss.” He rises in his chair. “Tonight they’ll learn the lesson hard.” His voice is dark and low, rolling thunder. “I’ll teach those cunts. You don’t fuck with Liam O’Malley.”
He stands. His voice booms, cracking loud. We all stiffen. “Connor, make the arrangements.”
Then Father looks at me.
“Liam O’Malley is the fucking kingpin of Las Vegas. Everybody will know it tonight.”
I’ve got no way to get a message to Giulietta. I’m mad at myself. Still, she had some fun, and I did too.
She said it was just one night. And that wasn’t the part I listened to.
I heard, Our moment. A moment out of time.
Idiot.
I have work to do. I may not like Dad’s decision, but I’m a professional.
I have a contact. A maid in the Moretti compound. I did a favor for her louse of a boyfriend. She’d be better off if I’d put him in the ground, but people make their choices. Anyway, she’s grateful. That works for me.
I also know some of the drivers I took pics of. They won’t be as eager to share information as Candace. That’s okay. I have other ways to encourage them.
By about noon, I have the location of the meet and the full guest list. The Morettis booked a private room tonight in the back of the Strip Steak House for eight-thirty. Of course. It would be eight-thirty. When I’m set to meet Giulietta. I have the names of the maitre d’ and the wait staff. I know the kitchen porters and the wine waiter.
The Morettis’ guests of honor are one Josey Markowicz and his big, not too bright son, Aaron. Josey Markowicz owns the King Pine casino.
I text John the details. He can communicate with Connor. They all love the chain of command.
But ideas are forming in my mind.
I spend the rest of the day training in the gym. Mikey, the trainer for the compound, comes by and offers to spot me. I bench press three hundred pounds, so I’m glad for his help and company. My aim is cardiovascular this afternoon, though. I’m not looking to get muscle-tied. I want speed and agility. Most of all, I need all my reflexes match fit for tonight.
