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Luigi lowers his bat as the door closes behind them. “Those three aren’t allowed in here anymore,” he says to the bartender. “Sorry about the disturbance, folks.”
***
But about 15 minutes later, the door opens again. It’s the three football players, and this time, they have a police officer with them.
“This is the place,” Jason announces proudly. “They allow underage drinking in here. The bar condones it.” He points to Isabella. “Ask for her ID. She’s only 20 years old. If her license says otherwise, it’s a fake.”
The police officer walks slowly over to our table, then stops. Isabella stiffens.
“Sorry to interrupt your evening, Mr. Rossi,” the cop addresses Alessandro. “I’m happy to book the three of them now, keep them in the drunk tank overnight. Or I can fuck off back to my beat and let you deal with them your way.”
My husband gives him a tight smile. “Thanks, Paul. No need to add paperwork to your night. We’ll take it from here.”
Jason and his two friends watch with mouths agape as the officer walks past them and exits the bar, whistling to himself. One of the men drinking by the door locks it behind him.
“Uhh, what the fuck just happened?” asks Jason’s friend, staring at him in confusion.
Jason doesn’t get the chance to answer before someone smashes him in the back of the head with a bottle. The other two football players have no time to react. They’re surrounded by a group of Mafia guys armed with bottles and pool cues, beating them down viciously in an attempt to impress the boss.
I turn to my husband, torn between horror and a dark sense of satisfaction. He’s watching with a blank, dead-eyed look on his face, the same one I remember from his grandfather’s funeral. It’s like he’s been transported to a different place. Next to me, Isabella is frozen, staring at the table in front of her as the beating continues.
Then suddenly, Alessandro stands up.“Enough!”He holds out his hand.
The beatdown stops. Instantly. Jason and his two friends stay on the ground, bleeding and groaning.
“Get them out of here,” Alessandro snarls.
A couple of men rush to pick up the football players. They drag them out the back door and leave them in the alley.
Dominic turns to his friend. “You think we should get out of here?”
Alessandro nods, his eyes still dead. “Yes.”
We walk out to the parking lot in silence. Alessandro uses his phone to unlock the car.
Then flames shoot to the sky and an incredible, deafening bang shatters the night as his Tesla explodes in an enormous ball of fire. He wraps his arms around me, shielding me with his body from the heat while Dominic does the same with Isabella.
Chapter Forty-Four
Alessandro
20 years ago
“Happy birthday to youuuu!”
Everybody claps as they finish singing. Perched on my bar stool, I blow out my candles, all 10 of them, and look around at the friends I have celebrating with me. I feel like the coolest kid around. I’m not even a teenager yet, and half the guests at my party are grownups. These are men of honor. That’s what my dad calls them. And they’re treating me like part ofthe crew.
“Happy birthday, kid,” says Uncle Sal, clapping me on the back and stuffing an envelope full of cash into my hand. “You’ll turn out all right.”
I make eye contact with my best friend Dominic, beaming. We love birthdays. His was last month, and he got a lot of envelopes. But I wasn’t jealous. My grandpa is the boss. I knew when my birthday came, my envelopes would be fatter than his.
“IsNonnocoming?” I ask dad hopefully, tugging his sleeve to get his attention.
“Look at that fucking piece of shit,” he mutters, staring across the bar at a man I don’t recognize. “Coming in here.” He nudges Uncle Sal. “You see this?”
Sal glances over his shoulder, then whispers something. My heart sinks.
“Dad?” I try again, hoping I can distract him. “IsNonnocoming?”
