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“Candidates?” Farrell asked.
“Just one.” Nico pressed another button on his keyboard and a black and white picture of a man appeared on the screen. He was walking with his head down, dark hair falling over his forehead, sunglasses covering his eyes. It was hard to tell in the photograph, but Nico knew from the background he’d run that the man was tall — 6’4” to be exact. “Damian Cavallo.”
“A whole fucking city of criminals and we only have one candidate for leadership?” Luca asked.
Nico glanced at him. “You know as well as anyone that the skill set required for leadership is different from the one used to commit crimes.”
Christophe tapped the tablet in front of him and Nico saw his screen change to the dossier he’d sent all three men before the meeting. “Why is he so often involved in violent altercations?”
Nico glanced at Farrell. “Some people just like to fight.”
Farrell leaned back in his chair. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
Nico leveled his gaze at Farrell. “I’ve tried it.”
Farrell gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Nico preferred to resolve problems without violence. When violence became necessary, he first utilized his martial arts training. Weapons were reserved as a last resort.
Of course, his philosophy didn’t mean he wasn’t a dangerous man.
Those who earned it would feel his wrath, but he didn’t enjoy it the way Farrell did. Farrell would punch and kick and beat his way through every problem for the sheer thrill of it. That was something even Jenna Carver and their daughter, Lily, hadn’t been able to change about him.
It was who he was.
“Financials say he’s made a lot of money,” Christophe said.
“He inherited a lot of money first,” Nico said. “Then he tripled it.”
“I remember him,” Luca said. “He worked for us.”
Nico nodded. “Yes.”
Farrell sat forward. “Come again?”
Luca shrugged. “He worked for the Vitale family right after Nico took over.”
Farrell glanced up at the photograph still on-screen. “And yet he’s alive and well.”
Nico heard the question in his statement; it was rare for anyone to leave their business alive. That Nico had once done so was only because he’d helped the FBI bring in Raneiro.
“He was strictly low-level,” Nico said. “An analyst.”
“What kind of analyst?” Christophe asked.
“Financial analyst,” Luca said.
Farrell laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You want to turn over the New York territory — a territory that looks more like the Wild West than the U.S. headquarters for the Syndicate — over to a bean counter?”
“Damian Cavallo isn’t your average analyst,” Nico said. He pressed a button on the keyboard and a new slide emerged, this one outlining Cavallo’s background.
Farrell looked up, and Nico could almost hear him reading the bullet points on the monitor.
Parents: Vincent and Elizabeth Cavallo
No siblings
Father founded Cavallo Financial
Mother founded charitable Cavallo Foundation
