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He could’ve dragged it out and made Emilio sweat his judgment, but instead the don chose to mete out the punishment tonight.
There are two parts of me now. The dead part. And the part Hannah made feel. The dead part doesn’t give a shit what goes down tonight. Not if they bury Emilio at the bottom of Lake Michigan with a pair of cement shoes. Not even if they make me pull the trigger.
But the other part—the Hannah part—fuck. I can’t stomach it. Like it physically makes me ill to think of Emilio getting whacked. Gracie being widowed before she even gets married. Not having her big wedding.
I don’t like it.
It’s not that I forgive the guy. He hired a hit on me just to save his own ass after stealing my girl.
The thing is, Grace isn’t my girl anymore. Right now it feels like she never was. We were pretending. Going through the motions of what Made Men and their pretty, gold-digging girlfriends did.
I am in one of the don’s warehouses in Little Italy, not far from Garden of Eden.
Emilio’s curled up in the fetal position, bleeding and crying like a baby. The guys have already worked him over pretty good.
Everyone important is here. All the old-timers. Alex, Don G’s son-in-law. Marco and Leo.
Don Pachino glances my way and lifts his chin to summon me. I walk over like the scene means nothing to me.
Which is only half true.
I’ve seen enough violence to harden me to the sight of it. Hell, I perpetrated enough violence to make Emilio think I was going to kill him when I got out. So the sight of him bruised and bleeding does nothing to me.
But knowing he might die soon? That makes me itchy.
“Emilio violated his oath.” The room goes quiet when Don G speaks. This is it: Emilio’s sentencing.
Looking around, I can tell I’m not the only guy who isn’t entirely comfortable. Everyone looks grim. Hands stuffed in pockets, no hint of pleasure in any of it. Emilio may have fucked me, but he’s still one of our own. He’s Family. A brother-in-arms.
And he’s been a favorite of the don’s.
“He betrayed us all when he attempted to kill a member of La Famiglia.”
Emilio lets out a sob, but he doesn’t beg. He knows better.
Don G crosses his arms over his chest and lets his words settle over all of us. Lets the tension grow. “Armando, you are the injured party. What justice do you seek?”
Fuck.
I hoped the decision would be made for me.
“I’m not the only injured party,” I say, looking toward Marco. “He got shot in the ass.”
“And he’s a bloody mess because of it,” Marco says. “Don’t worry. I got mine.”
“You sure?” I ask. “You want to shoot him in the ass too. Seems only fair.”
“I considered it,” Marco says with a smirk.
Emilio peers up at me through the swollen slits his eyes have become. There’s pleading in his gaze. Apology. “I’m sorry, Mando. I tried to cancel it, I swear to Christ, I did.”
Of course, that reminds me of Hannah, which makes me feel again.
“Yeah, I know.”
The room is silent. I don’t think anyone even breathes.
“Hannah heard you calling it off.”
I watch hope bloom on Emilio’s face. He drags himself up on his forearms, then sits up with a wince, holding his ribs, which are undoubtedly broken.
I shove my hands in my pockets like the other men. Consider Emilio, the sorry stronzo at my feet. “You’re such a fucking pansy, you couldn’t even try to kill me yourself.”
Tears fall down Emilio’s face. He spreads his hands. “I’m sorry, Mando. I just love her so much. I always loved her. Even before you went in the can. I just wanted to live to marry her.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
I sense the agitation in the room at my dry threat. The implication that he wouldn’t live to marry Grace.
I meet his pleading gaze. “Offer me restitution,” I demand, throwing it out like a challenge. Like I might not accept his offer.
Relief and eagerness spread across his face. “Anything. I’ll pay it. Name your price.”
“How much is that wedding worth to you?”
“Anything,” Emilio begs.
“Fifty thousand.” I throw out the first number that pops in my head.
“One hundred,” Don G interjects firmly.
Emilio nods eagerly, dragging himself slowly to his knees. “I’ll pay it. Yes, of course. I’ll pay it.”
“Bring it to him tomorrow, and we’ll put this to bed.” He looks at me. “No retributions.”
I hold my hands up. “I never threatened him in the first place. You told me to leave it, and I did.” I lift my shoulders. “I follow orders. I’m loyal.”
Unlike some other stronzo fucks. I don’t say it, but I know everyone there’s thinking the same thing.
Emilio will have to live with his shame for the rest of his life. He may still be in the Family, but he lost all respect tonight.
