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“What about Paulie?”
“Look. I tell you this . . . and I’m as good as gone.” I bite my tongue, trying to bury the excitement.
“As opposed to . . . ?”
“I tell you this, Delilah, and it gets out, I’m not making it to the end of the fuckin’ year.”
“Bummer,” I say, staring at my nails.
I need to get them filled sometime soon.
“You’re a real cunt, you know that?”
I smile.
I also thank the Lord that Dante isn’t listening in to the call.
“At least I’m a free woman, Vitale. At least I’m breathing fresh air.”
“For how long?” His question hovers over the phone line. “How long before one of them decides they don’t like the idea of a woman in power? Carmine, Paulie? No way they’ll be on board with a woman as a boss.”
“That’s my problem to figure out. Now, do you have more for me, or should I hang up? I’m getting cold.”
“He put a hit out on her.” He spits out the words quickly, like he needs to do anything he can to keep me on the line.
Bingo.
“Who?”
“Paulie.” Jesus fucking Christ. “Paulie put out a hit on Teresa.”
“Why?”
“He can’t stand the bitch. She got power of attorney for Tony, got control of everything: money, investments, real estate. A lot of it went to the state when he was nabbed, but the rest . . . The rest he transferred over to her before they could grab it. No idea why. Paulie thought it would go to him, but here we are.”
“So he put a hit out on his mother to inherit it?”
“Seems it.”
“But it was never fulfilled? Or is it still out there?”
“Word on the street is that Teresa got wind of it. Spoke to her husband, dangled whatever fuckin’ carrot she has, and he reamed Paulie out. Hit was called off.”
So, Teresa knows her son tried to have her killed. And she has something on Tony—a man in prison for what appears will be life—and he’s still scared of her.
Looks like I need to spend more time with my “future mother-in-law.”
“Like grandfather like grandson, though. Callin’ hits on beloved women.”
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
Before I can respond, though, we’re interrupted.
“This caller has thirty more seconds before the call ends,” a robotic woman’s voice says through the line.
“Thanks, Johnny,” I say, a small smile on my lips. “This was great.”
“So, we’re good?”
