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We pulled up in front of a mansion. It was a grand, colonial-style house built from dark bricks, and it looked to have three main floors.
As I got out of our black Mercedes and stood on the front lawn, I had a direct view of the nearby church whose roof was adorned with one of the largest crucifixes I’d ever seen—this was what Napoleone Veneti saw every time he left his house.
“The church is called St. Napoleone’s,” chuckled Marco.
“He is just being fucking ridiculous now,” I griped. “Who the fuck names a church after themselves? I’m surprised that Napoleone hasn’t replaced the Jesus on the crucifix with an image of himself.”
“The crucifix emphasizes Jesus's sacrifice: his death by crucifixion,” remarked Marco. “But I doubt Napoleone would ever sacrifice himself, as Jesus did, for the redemption of mankind.”
“True,” I admitted grudgingly. “Like most Made Men, Napoleone loves killing others just a bit too much to give up his own life.”
Napoleone greeted us at the dark-stained oak door of his mansion. “Welcome to Venetiville,” he boomed—as if we hadn’t already figured out that we were in his territory. “Come in, come in,” he welcomed.
We stepped inside the wood-paneled hallway.
“Would you like coffee?”
“That would be good,” replied Marco, with a shark-like smile. I nodded as well, being parched after our trip here. After this meeting, we also planned to drive into the city to pay a visit to Napoleone’s illegal casino. It was a highly profitable income stream for him, particularly since he had local law enforcement in his back pocket.
“Fidella! Anni!” he called out, but no one answered. “My daughters must have gone out,” he sighed. “If no one else is home, I won’t be able to operate the damn new coffee machine, but come to my study and I will fix us a whiskey instead and we can get down to business.”
Another car with some more of our soldiers had also parked up, and those men would keep guard while we were inside. The alliance was still in its infancy, and we weren’t taking any chances.
The study was suitably grand, as befitting the Capo of the Imperiosi. Its centerpiece was an original oak and stone fireplace, while the large windows were topped with smaller panes of antique stained glass.
After the drinks had been poured, Marco and I settled back into the comfortable leather armchairs. I took a sip of my whisky and let the smooth, smoky liquid slide down my throat and soothe my mind.
As I was about to take another sip, gunshots rang out from somewhere in the house.
Pop! Pop!
What the fuck? Napoleone had said no one was home. That meant someone had broken in and was trying to kill the Marchianos, Napoleone Veneti, or all of us.
I flung my tumbler to the floor as I sprang to my feet and drew out my revolver.
I was nearest to the door. I ran over to it and threw it open. Napoleone and Marco were close behind me.
I heard Napoleone shouting into his cell phone for backup.
I sprinted toward the back of the house where the sound had come from. Our soldiers were also running through the house toward the gunshots.
Pop!
Hearing another shot come from the backyard, I saw a flash of white through a window and caught a glimpse of someone holding a gun.
I ran through the open back door, pointing my gun at the intruder.
The person with the gun spun on their heel as they turned their body toward me.
I caught sight of someone disguised in some sort of dress-up costume. And, with a gun raised in their hand, they aimed straight at me.
CHAPTER 2
ANNUNCIATA
Fuck! A scary looking man had his weapon aimed at me!
I told myself to be brave as I pointed my gun at him.
