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He patted his stomach and grinned. “That’s what a good woman will do for ya. You should try it some time.”
“Yah, man,” Cayman agreed, laying on the thick accent but backing away so I wouldn’t punch him.
“Get the fuck out of here. Why is everyone trying to fix me up?” I glowered, able to grin as they walked away, even though the two deaths continue to weigh on my mind.
“Because they’re right,” Maxwell agreed, chuckling under his breath. Then his expression became darker, something he usually allowed only when behind the closed doors of his office.
“What’s wrong?” I asked a few seconds later.
He shook his head several times before answering. “You’re right to be concerned. I don’t like this, Francesco. The timing is horrific and if the Greeks are backing them, helping in any way, it will scare some of our customers off, including those on our legitimate side.”
“You’re forgetting you were supposed to be dead.”
There’d been at least four assassination attempts on his life over the last eleven plus years. While none of them had seemed to bother him, I had to admit that the only assassination attempt that had almost been successful was the one the day before. I could only wonder what would have happened had he taken the meeting.
“Yeah, I don’t take it lightly. Raleigh isn’t either. In fact, I’m surprised she’s handling the situation as well as she is.” He took a sip of his drink, continuously scanning the lake as if worried enemy soldiers would appear by boat.
“When the time is right, I’ll eliminate Dante and his father myself. I started this crap. I’ll end it.”
“You didn’t start anything. The Bianchis are greedy. And attempting to handle me, are you? I have enough of that with my beautiful wife.” He smirked as he turned his head in my direction. “You know that’s ill advised.”
“My sister shouldn’t learn what it’s like to be a widow at such an early age.”
“She won’t. I’ll make certain of it.”
“Look, I had a thought. Maybe you should take the family to a safehouse for an undisclosed period of time.”
He moved in front of me. “While I appreciate your candor and your concern, don’t put me out to pasture just yet, my dear boy. I have moves that you’ve never seen before.”
“My concern isn’t about your qualifications, Max. It’s about the fact the Bianchis appear to have no respect for the system. That makes them dangerous. The other families are anxious as well, which won’t bode well for business or peace for that matter. Whatever undermining the Bianchis are doing started long before the assassination attempt. We were just too certain of our power to notice.”
“Hhmmm… Interesting you think so.”
There was a faraway look in his eyes as he scanned the crowd, waving to whoever had grabbed his attention. I could tell his smile was fake, another anomaly. He was extremely concerned. If that’s what a family did, I was right in keeping anyone out of my life.
“I’ll check with my buddy at the CIA to see if he’s heard anything about the Bianchis’ push to gain additional territory,” he added.
“Not a bad idea,” I told him. Max’s contacts inside various law enforcement agencies had proven helpful over the years. It was amazing how much chatter was learned through agencies like the DEA and the FBI. The important thing was that the discovery was always vetted so we could believe in its authenticity.
“Don’t do anything rash at this point. I want Bianchi and his son nervous, worried about what might happen. However, Carmine? That’s an entirely different story. Make it painful.” He patted me on the shoulder before walking away.
I would enjoy doing that and more.
CHAPTER 12
Francesco
Carmine had three homes, two in the state of New York. I’d learned from Viper the best method of tracking every purchase made by our enemies and those we considered risks to our corporation. The list I’d proctored over the years didn’t merely consist of criminals and their illegal activities. Politicians, lawmakers, members of the FBI, the CIA, and corporate moguls also had a prominent place. The wealth of information had proven vital over the years in our efforts to blackmail and extort when necessary.
Granted, we were careful in pushing too hard on some of our more illustrious guests on the list, but often a mere mention of a repulsive proclivity was all that was necessary. For Mr. Capello, his adoration for young girls had gotten him in hot water more than once, this time to the tune of being forced to pay child support.
While I’d never consider him a doting father, at least he enjoyed spending some time with the brat he’d spawned. That’s where Cay and I found him, smoking a cigar on the deck of the small house where the mother of his baby still lived in a quaint yet rundown section of Jersey. What he hadn’t thought to do was to provide both her and the baby with a better set of accommodations. Maybe because his gambling debts had become so significant.
Which was the reason I believed he’d sold his soul, paying off a portion of the debt to the Bianchi family. While their criminal record precluded them from owning a casino, that hadn’t stopped them from earning millions from backroom gambling establishments located in the least likely locations. Over a laundry mat in Teaneck, New Jersey. In the basement of a liquor store in Secaucus. Everything was a stone’s throw away from New York City. If the cops knew of the existence of the facilities, they’d been paid off to look the other way.
It wasn’t usually our concern given the legitimacy of most of our businesses, but everything had changed. The driver remained by the SUV, ensuring some stupid kid didn’t try to steal it while Cayman and I handled the business at hand.
Cay remained quiet as we moved down the dark alley, careful to avoid stepping on broken glass or other trash tossed into the disgusting hellhole. The stench was reprehensible, but perfect for what I had in mind as punishment for the treacherous son of a bitch.
