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Giovanni
PLAYLIST: ? THE BEACH - THE NEIGHBOURHOOD ?
“You’ve been reckless, son,”Papa says over the phone. His oxygen tank hisses in the background. “You’ve risked our reemergence in the west. It was supposed to be focused on opening the Vittoria and making it a success. Instead you’ve involved yourself in a turf war with Lovato’s kid.”
I grit my teeth listening to Papa scold me. I don’t dare back talk. Once Papa gets going, there’s no stopping him. It’s a smarter call to let him air his grievances, pretend to listen to each word, and then go about my day.
This is a lesson I learned long ago. My twin brother, Giancarlo? Not so much. He’s too hot-headed to listen. He’s like Tony Lovato—they fly off the handle and mouth off. It’s short-sighted and lacks strategy.
But it’s things like this that make me the superiorcapo. I’m smart and calculated. Most importantly, I know when to shut my fucking mouth, and when to strike. On the phone with my sick and ailing seventy-five-year-old father is not the time to rebel.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Pa,” I say calmly. It’s midday, and I’m seated in the office of the Vittoria casino. Robby’s lingering nearby, my sounding board as we map out our strategy for expansion. “Tony’s a little bitch. He’s a bug that’s easy to crush. Iwillcrush him myself. No doubt about it.”
“You’ve strained relations all the way back here in our Queens territory. This day and age, it’s bad for business. It makes partners nervous to be caught up in the middle of a war.”
I pick up a model figurine of the Vittoria Resort and Casino and toy with it. “The Lovatos don’t have the influence they’ve had in the past, Pa. Nobody will pull out if we challenge them. Our deals are solid. I ran into Johnny Goldman the other night—he’s interested in working together again.”
Papa makes a sound of disgust. “Not interested in dealing with that cheat.”
“Pa, get some rest. Do some soothing meditation. Feed the ducks at a park. Whatever it is that will set your worries at ease. Everything on the west coast is under control.”
“I expect results, Giovanni. When I next see you for Claro’s homecoming, I expect a smoking-hot bimbo on your arm and some profits.”
We hang up with nothing more said. I tuck my phone into my pocket and recline in my giant executive chair. Robby plays with a stress ball, tossing it up and snatching it out of the air.
“Not so pleasant chat?” he asks.
It’s in that moment I realize I’m scowling like a grumpy fuck. “He’s old. Senile. He doesn’t understand how the dynamics have changed on this coast.”
“Boss, you know I’m backing you through and through, but your father—he’s seen and done it all. If he’s not interested in a turf war with the Lovatos, we should tread carefully.”
“What do we have to lose? We have more soldiers, more connections, more money to throw around. Tony Lovato and his crew are weak. If there’s any time to take them out and eliminate their threat, it’s now. I don’t do rash decisions, and this is no rash decision. I’ve thought this through in every scenario.”
Robby shakes his head, tossing up the stress ball. “I dunno, Boss. You had us rough Dominico up for a simple oversight.”
“It was no simple oversight!” I growl suddenly. “He was given a task to watch over Falynn. He failed to do so. He suffered the consequences.”
“Falynn who is a liability.”
“We’ve been over this. Falynn’s presence is not up for debate.”
“The girl’s some bitch off the street. Wasn’t she advertising that night to anybody who paid? She’s not worth the trouble, Boss! You said you’d handle her, but it’s been over a week now. I’m sure the pussy is A1, but you’ve gotta cut your losses and dispose of her.”
I’m on my feet, swooping over to where Robby reclines on the office sofa. My glare is dangerous as I hold up a warning finger. “I’m not going to tell you again. It is not a matter up for discussion. Choose to defy me, and there’ll be a consequence that makes Dominico’s look like ice cream on a Sunday stroll. Are we clear?”
Robby intakes a breath, then nods. “Of course. Falynn’s yours. She’s here to stay. I won’t bring it up again.”
“Now go make yourself useful. We need to check on the Dollhouse.”
Once Robby’s gone, I wait another second or two. Then a flame of anger engulfs me and I’m a firestorm destroying everything around me. The anger I’ve worked so hard to keep at bay is no longer something I can easily keep under control. Now that the hold has been broken, I’m a torrent of years of pent-up rage and fury.
My fist smashes into a portrait hanging on the wall. It’s an old-timey photograph of my grandpops and Ricky Gunn outside the Flamingo. I move on to shoving shit off the table, sending the vases and figurines careening to the floor. I grip the sides of the bookshelf against the wall and knock that over too. The heavy wooden piece shakes the ground. Books spill out in a heap.
I don’t give a fuck. My tirade is only beginning as I move on and punch the big-screen TV. More blood trickles from my open knuckles, but the burning pain eggs me on. I howl destroying every corner of the office. I break the legs of chairs and tear into documents. I smash liquor bottles and rip artwork off the wall. I don’t stop ’til there’s nothing left but the wreckage of my explosive anger.
I’m a beast and I’ve been unleashed. After I tried so fucking hard to contain myself. After I spent years practicing how to stay cool and composed. I breathe erratically as my back hits the wall and I sink down, bloodied hands and all.
Robby’s words triggered something in me—a reminder that this thing between me and Falynn boils down to another transaction. Give and take. Cash and pussy. Has there ever been a more fitting pair?
