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For now, I need to think about how to deal with this situation. The simplest way is often the best. I’ll tell him the truth. I wanted to beat Giovanni so I went in and killed Don Moretti. The rest is collateral. We can overcome it. The Don is dead. The insult has been avenged. The message goes out. Do not kill one of our made men unless you want the wrath of God to rain down on you.
I park up outside the diner, surprised to see my brother’s car is there too. I think about turning away. Is this a trap? If it is, I’ll face it head on.
My father is sitting in a booth near the jukebox. A concerto is drifting from it, of course. The diner employees are huddled in a corner, looking terrified. I’m not surprised. They know our family’s reputation.
I sit opposite my father. He looks pale, like the drive has wiped him out.
A coffee appears in front of me. I ignore it. I’ve got more sour mash at home and I don’t intend to be long.
“Where’s Giovanni?” I ask.
“Bathroom,” he replies. “Which gives me time to find out what the fuck you’ve been doing tonight.”
“Giovanni set me up. He told me he was planning to kill Don Moretti so I thought I’d get in there first. Only he rigged the place to blow. It was supposed to take me out as well but he fucked up the charges. He’s incompetent, as ever.”
“He set you up? Boo hoo. Welcome to the family. You killed a Don, Nico. You any idea what I’m going to have to do to make sure the commission doesn’t have you killed?”
The bathroom door swings open and Giovanni walks over, a big shit eating grin on his face. “Well, well,” he says as he slides in next to my father. “If it isn’t the big killer.”
I swing a punch at him. It connects with his jaw, sending him flying sideways out of the booth onto the floor. His glasses skid across the floor beside him.
“What’s that for?” he asks in a whiny voice.
“You know what for,” I snap at him. “You were hoping I’d get killed tonight.”
“Father,” he snaps, moaning loudly. “You saw what he did to me. Punish him. Family doesn’t hurt family. That’s why you always say.”
“Enough bickering,” Dad says, motioning for my brother to get up. “Giovanni, is it true?”
“Is what true?”
“Did you tell Nico you were planning to kill Don Moretti?”
“Of course not. Why would I say something like that?” He grins at me as he slides back into his seat and I have to resist smacking him again. “Don’t worry, Nico. I’m cleaning up your mess as we speak. Unlike you, I don’t leave loose ends.”
“Shut up,” Dad says. “Let me talk.” He coughs loudly, his cheeks turning purple with the effort. “You both know how this ends. No side bets. No wagers. No testing each other. Whoever gets married and gets their wife pregnant first, that’s who takes over from me. Giovanni, go home. Your wife will be worried about you.”
“Yes, father.” He gets up and walks out without another word. Dad leans toward me and lowers his voice. “You want to know why he set you up?”
“Why?”
“You do what it takes to win in this life. If you’d died tonight, he would have won. You bring some balls into the fight, Nico. Got it?”
“You telling me to kill him?”
“I’m saying that he did the famiglia a favor. With the Moretti name dead, we take over their businesses. The family gets richer. I’d have done what he did, if I was your age.”
“The Moretti name isn’t dead,” I reply, watching for his reaction. His face gives nothing away.
“What are you telling me?” he asks.
“The daughter. She’s still alive.”
“And how do you know this?”
“I brought her home.”
He smiles. “You’re learning to play the game. You force her to marry you, and then get her pregnant. Giovanni doesn’t know a thing about it until it’s too late.” He manages a laugh though it makes him cough again. “She has no choice but to grovel at your feet under fear of execution. I underestimated you, Nico.”
