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"To a man who made me furious last night," I replied as calmly as I could.
"How?"
"He tried to buy information from one of my dealers. Before we could question the guy, he blew his own brains out. So now we're going to go visit the guy's family so I can remind him who he's messing with."
Gia remained silent for a few seconds. "I need a little more context to understand all of this."
I nodded. Of course. "The other club owners don't take too well to me because I play out of their league. They're no competition for me, no matter how hard they try. So, from time to time, they try to undermine me and get information they can use to hurt me."
"But they can't do that."
"So far, not one has succeeded," I confirmed.
"So we're going to pay a visit to his family?"
"Right. It's always a balancing act. Sometimes, it's just not proper to bring the family into it, but again, in other cases it's the only way. There are men out there who don't care what happens to their wife or kids. Moretti is a little different. He can't stand it when people even mention his wife."
"And that's why you think it's a good idea to visit her and tell her husband to stay out of your affairs?"
"Something like that. Besides, I'm still convinced that he had something to do with the death of Vincenzo's wife. I could never prove it and Vince doesn't know about the suspicion, but just thinking about Moretti's fucking face makes me want to explode." Anger held me captive for a moment, but then I remembered that this was supposed to be an object lesson for Gia more than anything else.
If she wanted to get to know my world I wouldn't stand in her way anymore. At least that's what my impulsive side seemed to have decided when I offered to take her along.
"As long as you don't expect me to take part."
"Micina, your only job is to stand by and watch. I'll make sure nothing happens to you and if you change your mind, you can always stay in the car." I meant every word.
I would not force Gia to do anything. It was her decision what she wanted to see, how far she wanted to go. Diving into my world was no walk in the park. It brought dangers with it. Dangers that I had only partly informed her about.
"How is this going to go down?" she asked, her gaze still fixed on my face.
"I don't know. I guess it's always a spontaneous thing, depending on how the other person behaves. If she calls her husband or threatens me with a gun "
"You react the same way, even though you came to her home to cause trouble," she summarized.
"Something like that. Different rules apply here, Gia. The laws of the state don't count for us. We make our own rules and I can't let an affront like that stand. It would mean that I don't care. That I might even expect to have my rank pulled and be okay with that on some twisted level."
Gia couldn't help laughing. She shook her head. "Those are the rules of the road, aren't they? You're not much better than one of the gangs in my part of town."
I grumbled in agreement. Only we were much richer, better dressed, and didn't have the police as guests every other day. "I'll take care of them, too," I mumbled so quiet that she couldn't understand.
Somehow I didn't like the fact that she lived in the middle of these gangs that she could fall victim to any day.
"I genuinely can't imagine all of this," she said.
"That's fine. I'll be right there." By now we were in a suburban-like area. The houses had large lots with front yards, nice fences, and the first people were already out and about. In colorful tracksuits when they made their morning rounds or in pajama pants when they stood in the garden watering the flowers before the sun got too high and burned everything.
I steered the car toward a stone house at the end of the street and parked in the driveway. Before I got out, I reached over Gia into the glove compartment to pull out my gun.
I was already carrying my knife; the gun was a safety measure. Not only for me but also for Gia. Only when I got out of the car did she also get out.
Her complete posture had changed. Somehow she adapted to me an interesting development, on which I could not concentrate further when I needed all my attention for the visit to Moretti's wife.
I led her through the front yard to the small terrace that led to the front door.
From inside, I heard the sounds of a radio. Mariella was presumably already in the kitchen preparing breakfast for the child, while her husband was still hanging out in his clubs or doing something else.
Although it was difficult for me, I pressed the bell like a civilized person and waited until footsteps approached. With my arms folded, I leaned against the door frame so that I was face to face with Mariella when she opened the door.
