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I've never been more disgusted at my father; he doesn't want anything more than another piece for his arsenal. I refuse to let Stella or Chance just become another pawn in his game.
"Do we have any idea who might be on the lookout for me?" I ask, shifting my weight from foot to foot, hopefully getting a chance to find out where to get ahead of this before it becomes an all-out manhunt. If there's a target that I need to take care of, I just want him to tell me.
"You should really come in and sit down if you're going to talk business. I'm sure we can come up with a good theory or two, that is if you have the time," Christine says, and now I can see the very hints of a smirk on her face.
"What?" I ask, not understanding what she's talking about.
"Your seat, we've been keeping it warm for you. There are a few different options that we can look into." She gestures with her hand toward one of the empty seats at the table.
The same table I've never wanted to be any part of. I don't want to dig myself in deeper; I want to get out. She's not giving me the option.
"Yes, why don't you take a seat, Vittore. We've got some business to go over anyway," Babbo says from where he's sitting. I glance over to him and see that he's wearing the same expression as my sister.
Victory.
I've never had a need to sit at the table before, and even though my father has always wanted me to join in and get more involved with the day-to-day operations, I'd always found a way to dodge the responsibility, pawning it off on one of my other siblings or running off to a distant country to perform a hit.
Now there's no escape.
Moving slowly, feeling the revolt in every one of my bones as I make my way toward the large mahogany table, I grab the furthest seat I can and plop down.
It's foreign.
"There, now isn't that a good fit," my sister chuckles humorlessly, focusing all of her attention on me.
"It's not permanent," I grit.
"I think it should be. Now that you've shown your effectiveness in toppling our competition, I think you'll have much more of an input when we face the same problems again. The Isley family was just one of many who are looking to take our crown from us. If we want to stay on top, then we need to know what our enemies are up to at all times."
"Security... you want me to run security for the family?" I ask, disbelief clear in my voice.
"Not just that, but I'm sure we'll find a great place to use you," Christine answers for my father.
It's like he's not even pulling the strings anymore. He's just going along with whatever she says. Diego warned me about the shift in dynamic, but I never really noticed it before now. I don't have to worry about releasing another sigh of defeat; I lean back in the chair, "what do you want from me?"
Slowly, Christine slides a folder in my direction.
"Let's talk about the Colon cartel."
She grins at me, and I know for certain now there's no way that I'll find my way out of this. I'm stuck so deep not even God himself could pull me out.
Thirty-Five
Vitto
I went there to get answers. Went to find out who would be dumb enough to come for my family once again. Instead, I left with more questions and a more defined role in my family's business.
"Come, let me walk you out, little brother," Christine says cheerfully. Too cheerfully. I wait for her to catch up, anxious to get back to the house where I left Chance and Stella.
"Something I can do for you, Christine?" I ask as she takes her time to grab hold of her blazer and walk with me toward the door, leaving my father sitting at his table going over more of the paperwork. "Just trying to catch up," she hunches.
Slowly, we walk down the long hallway, finally out of my father's hearing. "It's nice to have you back on this side of the border; New York just isn't the same without you."
"That's bullshit, and you know it. I'm never here."
"True, but now that you've, let's say, settled down, I'm sure I'll be seeing a lot more of you."
"Depending on what Babbo has me doing, you might not," I tell her.
