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CHAPTERFOUR
ETHAN
The hotel room was adequate. It met all of my short-term requirements. I stood by the window, staring out at the city below. It was quieter than Chicago, with only one siren sounding all morning.
She might walk by, I reflected as I gazed out the window. Snap out of it; you're not a schoolboy, I told myself as my phone began to ring.
I took the call and put it on the loudspeaker while walking over to my coat to check my pistol.
"How's the city, Ethan?" the phone's speaker blared with my uncle's broadcaster-style voice.
"It's quiet," I said. It was the type of quick response he was used to from me.
He chuckled a little before asking about the latest developments.
"I'll take him out tonight. Some of the men are arriving in the city today," I told him.
For a few seconds, there was silence on the phone, and I knew what that meant. My uncle did not really condonemy methods. A few years ago, he had openly referred to me as a soldier rather than a leader. It had been the precise definition of the man I was, but now that I was in power, it didn't matter. I was a soldier, and the Levines needed one. I had no qualms about it.
"He betrayed the family, uncle," I said, breaking his silence. "He stabbedyou in the back."
"That was a long time ago," said my uncle. His voice lacked its usual vigor that morning, but that was to be expected when it came to Fred Westbrook.
Even though it had been nine years since Fred's betrayal, it still felt fresh in the minds of the Levines, and it was my responsibility to bear the burden of my family's hurt and anger.
I remembered himas a quiet man who vanished and reappeared whenever my uncle required him. Nobody understood why he had betrayed the family and stabbed my uncle. He'd fled before anyone could question him, knowing that wewould never stop looking for him.
I was certain he wouldn't expect me to pursue him. He'd been nice to me before, but he was a Westbrook, and I was the head of the Levine Mafia. First and foremost, I had obligations to my family.
"Uncle, we never forget. You and Dadalways told me that," I reminded him.
There were rumors that the paralysis caused byWestbrook's attack had softened my uncle. Even I believed it, but I never told him. He was once a ruthless man, but I hoped he would grow beyond his limitations and become the mentor I needed.
"Do you have to kill him? He has been gone for many years and poses no danger to the family," my uncle inquired.
"I loathe treachery. I'm going to hunt down and kill every traitor the family has ever had,"I'dpromised him before leaving home.
"Uncle?" I checked to see if the call was still active because hehad yet to respond.
"I understand that I cannot persuade you to change your mind. You are the head of the family and your own man. I have to trust your judgment," he finally spoke up, his voice cold.
I knew he didn't agree with my plan, but as he put it, I was the head of the family. I wasthe Don.
* * *
VANESSA
If I weren't soexhausted, the evening would be perfect.
I had Anna carry the cake that we had spent the majority of the day baking, even though shecomplainedabout having to hold it until we arrived at my uncle's street.
It was one of the city's more modern areas. The houseswere mostly bungalows, with family cars parked in front. Almost every residence on the street had a lawn and a picket fence. The neighborhoodwas quiet, and no one else was out walking that evening except Anna and me. It was ideal for my uncle.
"Do you want me to help you with this? You'll dropit," I offered.
"I won't drop it. I'm not that clumsy,” she said, rolling her eyes at me and laughing, knowing she was indeed quiteclumsy. Hearing her hearty laugh made me happy, which gave me a boost of energy. Her phone suddenly rang in her pocket, but she ignored it. We were both certain it was her father.
"Are you sure you don't want to getthat?" I asked. While I was aware that it was a sensitive subject for her, I was also aware that I was the only person with whom she could speakabout it.
