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Giovanni

PLAYLIST: ? WALKIN - DENZEL CURRY ?

“Boss…”Louis steps into the room. “I heard you were in rough shape…but this? Put the gun down. Don’t do it.”

His presence is enough to snap me out of my drunken stupor. I slowly set the pistol back down on my desk. It’s a rare occasion for me to be short on words. This is one of those times. I’m too damn drunk and caught off guard to piece anything together.

“Where is everybody? I let myself in,” Louis says. He glances around my office as if searching for a hidden crowd of people. “Where are your guys?”

I blink at him. “I told them to get the fuck out.”

“And they left?” Louis shakes his head. He strolls over, heavy-footed and familiar, like a damn blast from the past.

It’s been so long since we’ve been around each other like this—just me and him like two pals having a drink after work—it feels like Vegas. A sentimental kind of nostalgia washes over me.

Fucking whiskey. It’s making me act like a pussy.

I slap a hand over my face to sober myself up. “What are you doing here, Louis?”

He shrugs, sticking a hand in his jean pocket. “I told you. I heard things. I decided to use my off time to come check on you. Funny, right? It’s been so long…”

“How’s working for Bonucci?”

“He’s no you,” he answers. “Jersey’s no Vegas.OrNYC. But I’ve adapted. I figured you’d replace me by now.”

I reach for my whiskey and down the last of it. Not that I need any more. I’m one sip away from slurring my speech. Uncomfortable moments call for it, though. With Louis here, there’s no way the conversation won’t shift to what happened so many years ago.

The tragic day was the start of disaster for Falynn and me. It ended my friendship with Louis.

Drove me into becoming the obsessive, controlling, power-hungry tyrant I am today.

“Nobody’s like you,” I admit. “My new men are good. Very sharp. But it’s all business.”

Nobody that’d be the best man at my wedding…

“Boss, can I take that pistol? It’s making me nervous.” When I nod, Louis lumbers forward and slips it into his back pocket.

I don’t stop him, because it’s necessary. Even in my drunken state, I recognize it’s a move to protect me from myself. I was seconds away from blowing my brains out.

“What happened with you and Mrs. Falynn?” he asks. Next, he moves over to the minibar, pointing at the selection of alcohol. “You mind?”

I shake my head. “Help yourself.”

Louis spends a moment fixing himself a drink. He joins me in the chair opposite my desk. Again it’s like old times—those days when I was a youngcaposeeking to dominate Vegas and prove myself to my father. He’d often come by my office at the Vittoria and we’d share a drink. In these moments, we were more thancapoand soldier. We were more than boss and employee. We werefriends.

“So?” he says, the ice chinking in his glass as he tastes his drink. “What happened to Mrs. Falynn?”

I blow a heavy breath. “Louis, I wish you were around to talk some fucking sense into me. I messed up. I really fucked up this time.”

“And she’s gone?”

I nod.

He frowns. “It must’ve been bad if she left. She really loved you.”

“You trying to make me feel like more of a piece of shit? The gun to my head wasn’t enough?” I joke darkly.

“Not trying to rub it in! Just surprised is all. It’s been years since Ireallyspoke to you guys.”

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