4. Angelo

4

ANGELO

“ F ee, we need to move now !” I yell as I rush back into the living room and pull on my clothes, my mind racing.

Thankfully, she follows me as she yanks on her clothes too. I grab her hand as soon as she’s dressed, and we rush down the stairs, the hungry roar of the fire growing louder with each step. The acrid smell of smoke fills my nostrils, and I can feel the heat intensifying.

As we reach the bottom of the stairs, I see Fee’s eyes widen in horror at the sight of flames licking at her beloved shop. Without hesitation, I scoop her up into my arms.

“No!” she cries out, reaching toward the inferno that was once Perfezione. “My shop! Everything we’ve worked for!”

“I’ve got you,” I assure her, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. I charge through the door, bursting out into the cool night air.

The contrast between the suffocating heat inside and the crisp night breeze is jarring. I set Fee down gently, keeping an arm around her as she sobs, watching her livelihood burn.

Assessing the fire quickly, I realize it’s not as severe as it could be. With the right equipment, I could probably handle it myself. But that would raise too many questions.

I pull out my phone, dialing 911. “There’s a fire at Perfezione on 43rd Street. Send the fire department immediately.”

Within minutes, we hear the wail of sirens approaching. The FDNY truck pulls up, firefighters jumping into action.

The fire chief approaches us, his face grave. Thank God he showed up. He’s been a family friend for years. “Don Pirelli, what’s the situation?”

“The fire seems to be contained to the main shop area,” I report. “The building’s occupants are safe, but we need to save as much of the shop as possible.”

As the firefighters work to extinguish the blaze, I hold Fee close, her body shaking with sobs. I scan the area, my eyes narrowed. This was no accident, and whoever did this is going to pay dearly.

People begin emerging from their homes, drawn by the commotion. Their gasps and cries of dismay echo through the night air as they recognize Perfezione.

“Oh, no, not the All Around!”

“Who would do such a thing?”

“That place has helped so many people…”

Each exclamation fuels my anger. There’s no doubt in my mind that this is Gino Timpone’s handiwork—his twisted idea of revenge for Fee not coughing up the protection money. The coward couldn’t even face her himself.

The fire chief approaches us, his face grim. “Don Pirelli, Ms. Saldano, I’m afraid we need to call the police. This is clearly arson.”

I nod, my jaw clenched while Fee sobs. “Of course, Chief. We’ll cooperate fully.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot news vans pulling up. Reporters and camera crews spill out, eager to capture the story. One of them recognizes Fee and rushes over.

“Ms. Saldano! Can you tell us what happened? How will this affect your community outreach programs?”

I step in front of Fee, shielding her from the reporters’ prying eyes as Marco approaches. “No comment at this time,” I say firmly.

As more cameras turn our way, I realize the gravity of the situation. Perfezione isn’t just any shop—it’s a community staple, known for clothing and feeding those in need. This fire isn’t just an attack on Fee. It’s an attack on the entire neighborhood.

“Gino,” Fee whispers. “This is all Gino’s doing.”

I pull Fee closer, whispering in her ear. “We’ll get through this, I promise. Gino won’t get away with this.”

She looks up at me, her eyes red-rimmed. “Lou,” she croaks. “I need to make sure Lou and Zip are okay.”

I nod, understanding her concern. “Of course. Marco will take you to Zip’s apartment. You should stay there tonight. It’s safer.”

She hesitates, glancing back at the shop. I squeeze her hand reassuringly. “Go. I’ll handle things here and join you later.”

As Marco leads Fee to the car, I turn to face the fire chief and the newly arrived police officers.

“Don Pirelli,” the police captain greets me. “Can you tell us what happened here?”

I spend the next hour giving statements, carefully omitting certain details while emphasizing others. Once the authorities are satisfied and the fire is fully extinguished, I walk through what’s left of Perfezione.

The damage isn’t as bad as I feared. Some things are charred, but overall, it’s salvageable. Still, the sight of it makes my blood boil. Gino will pay for this.

I pull out my phone, dialing Jimbo. He answers on the fourth ring, his voice groggy. “Boss? It’s 3 AM…”

“Perfezione was lit on fire tonight,” I cut in, my voice cold. Where the fuck was the security I had asked Jimbo and Romero to get? I’ll deal with that later .

There’s a sharp intake of breath, then Jimbo’s voice is suddenly alert. “What do you need, Boss?”

“Set up a meeting with the other Dons. At Kings. First thing tomorrow.”

“Consider it done,” Jimbo replies without hesitation.

“And make sure our guys come out to Perfezione to install a security system as soon as possible,” I retort. I can’t fucking trust anyone to protect this shop correctly.

As I hang up, I take one last look around the shop. Gino Timpone has no idea what he’s started. But he’s about to find out.

This isn’t just about business anymore. It’s personal. And I’m going to make damn sure he regrets ever touching what’s mine.

The next morning, Marco and I arrive at Kings. The understated elegance of the club’s exterior belies its true nature. The polished mahogany doors open silently, revealing an interior that seamlessly blends Old-World charm with modern luxury.

Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the rich leather armchairs and gleaming wood panels. The air is thick with the scents of expensive cigars and aged whiskey. Soft jazz plays in the background, barely audible over the low murmur of conversations conducted in hushed tones.

I nod to Dimitri Vassa as we enter. His sharp eyes miss nothing, a slight inclination of his head acknowledging my presence. As the proprietor of Kings, Dimitri walks a fine line, catering to the city’s elite while maintaining a neutral ground for less savory dealings.

In the private room reserved for our meeting, I find Alessandro De Luca, Valentino Barrone and Alberto Caputo already seated. These men, powerful Dons in their own right, form the core of La Familia. Their word is law in our world, and they alone have the authority to rein in Gino or green-light his execution.

Their bodyguards stand silently behind them, an imposing presence in dark suits. Marco takes his place behind me as I settle into my seat.

Dimitri himself approaches, a crystal tumbler of scotch in hand. “Your usual, Don Pirelli,” he says, placing the drink before me with a practiced flourish.

I nod my thanks, taking a slow sip of the amber liquid. The smooth burn helps steady my nerves as I prepare to make my case. The fates of Fee, Perfezione, and Gino Timpone hang in the balance of this meeting.

As I set down my glass, I meet the eyes of each Don in turn. Their faces are impassive, revealing nothing. But I can feel the weight of their collective gaze, assessing and judging before I’ve even spoken a word.

“Gentlemen,” I begin, my voice steady despite the gravity of the situation, “we have a problem that requires immediate attention.”

“We figured, Angelo,” Alessandro says boredly. “Why else would you call us here so blessed early?”

I lean forward, fixing Alessandro with a hard stare. “First, I would like to know why the protection I asked for the other day didn’t materialize.”

Alessandro blinks, clearly not expecting this. But his Don mask quickly slides back into place. “I decided it wasn’t worth it to allocate my men to such a silly request.”

I feel my temper flare. “When I call in a favor, it should be granted. Full stop.”

“No,” Alessandro retorts, his voice cold. “ I decide what favor should be granted. Full stop.”

The tension in the room is palpable. I can feel my hands clenching into fists under the table. But before I can respond, Valentino cuts in.

“Clearly, this isn’t why Angelo called us here,” he says, his voice smooth but with an edge of impatience. “Why don’t we cut to the chase?”

I take a deep breath, forcing myself to relax. Valentino’s right. We have bigger issues to deal with.

“Fine,” I say, my voice tight. “Gino Timpone has gone too far. He’s threatening neutral territories, demanding exorbitant protection fees, and now he’s resorted to arson.”

Alessandro’s eyebrow raises slightly. “Arson? That’s a serious accusation, Angelo.”

“It’s not an accusation. It’s a fact,” I reply firmly. “He tried to burn down Perfezione last night.”

Valentino, barely looking up from his phone, scoffs. “The tailor shop? Hardly seems like a matter for our attention.”

I clench my jaw, forcing myself to remain calm. “It’s more than just a shop. It’s a community staple, neutral ground respected by all Families for generations. There’s been an agreement between Giuseppe Saldano and Antoni Timpone to leave Perfezione alone.”

Alberto, looking uncomfortable in his new role, clears his throat. “While that’s regrettable, Angelo, what do you expect us to do? We can’t micromanage every Don’s territory.”

“This isn’t about micromanaging,” I argue. “Gino’s actions are threatening the delicate balance we’ve all worked to maintain. He’s antagonizing the community, drawing unnecessary attention.”

Alessandro leans back, his scarred face thoughtful. “You have a point. But intervening in another Family’s affairs… it’s not something we do lightly.”

Valentino finally puts his phone down. “Let’s be honest here. Is this really about the community, Angelo? You’ve never given a fuck about Perfezione before.”

“I bet Angelo has met Zip Saldano’s tempting granddaughter,” Alessandro muses, looking at me with a smirk. “That’s why he’s here.”

I feel my temper flare at Alessandro’s accusation, but I keep my voice level. “This is about upholding our code. The code Gino seems to have forgotten.”

Alberto shifts nervously. “Even if we agree something needs to be done, what are you proposing? We can’t just… remove him.”

“Why not?” I challenge. “He’s a liability. His actions are putting all of us at risk.”

Alessandro holds up a hand. “Slow down, Angelo. Removing a Don isn’t a decision we make lightly.”

Valentino nods. “Besides, who would take his place? The devil you know…”

I suppress a frustrated sigh. “Then let me deal with him. Give me the authority to put him in his place.”

The three Dons exchange glances. But before they can say anything, the door swings open abruptly and Gino strides in with Dimitri, a smirk playing on his lips. The room instantly tenses, bodyguards shifting protectively toward their Dons. Marco’s hand moves subtly toward his jacket.

Gino’s eyes sweep the room, his smirk widening. “Gentlemen, I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”

Alessandro’s scarred face remains impassive. “Gino. This is a private meeting.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Gino replies, his tone deceptively light. “But I thought you might want to hear some… interesting news from Chicago.”

Valentino raises an eyebrow. “Chicago? What business do you have there?”

Gino’s smile turns enigmatic. “Let’s just say I’ve been making some new friends. Powerful friends.”

Dimitri Vassa, who’s been silently observing, clears his throat. “It’s true. Word is, the Chicago Outfit is quite taken with Mr. Timpone here.”

A heavy silence falls over the room. I can see the other Dons processing this information, recalculating risks and alliances in their heads.

Alberto, looking even more uncomfortable than before, speaks up. “And the Irish? What’s their stance on all this?”

Gino’s eyes gleam. “Funny you should ask. They seem quite interested in expanding their… influence in New York.”

The implication hangs in the air, unspoken but clear. Gino’s not just making threats. He’s reshaping the board entirely.

I lean forward, my voice low but firm. “And what, exactly, do you hope to gain from this, Gino?”

He turns to me, his smile never wavering. “Gain? Why, Angelo, I’m just looking out for our mutual interests. After all, we wouldn’t want any… unfortunate incidents to disrupt the peace we’ve all worked so hard to maintain.”

Dimitri steps forward, his voice cutting through the tension. “Gentlemen, I feel compelled to remind you that the Bratva has a vested interest in maintaining peace. Should this conflict spill onto my properties or affect my business, they will not hesitate to intervene.”

The room falls silent as the implications of Dimitri’s words sink in. Alessandro’s scarred face tightens, while Valentino’s usual nonchalance gives way to a frown. Alberto shifts uncomfortably, clearly out of his depth.

Gino, however, seems to relish the growing unease, a smug smile playing on his lips. His eyes gleam with the satisfaction of a man who believes he holds all the cards.

I can feel the anger radiating from the other Dons, their concern palpable in the air. This situation is rapidly spiraling out of control, threatening to upset the delicate balance we’ve maintained for years.

Taking a deep breath, I stand, drawing all eyes to me. “Enough,” I say, my voice firm and authoritative. “We need to stand down. All of us.”

Gino's smirk widens, but I ignore him, focusing on the other Dons. "This situation requires a delicate touch. Escalating things further will only lead to consequences none of us want to face."

I meet each Don’s gaze in turn, silently urging them to see reason. “Give me time. I’ll find a way to handle this that doesn’t jeopardize everything we’ve built.”

The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife. For a moment, no one speaks, the weight of the decision hanging heavily in the air.

Finally, Alessandro nods slowly. “Very well, Angelo. We’ll give you a chance to resolve this. But make no mistake—our patience is not infinite.”

I can see the smug satisfaction on Gino’s face, and it pisses me off to no end. His arrogance is insufferable, but I force myself to stay calm. Losing my temper now would only give him more power.

Before I can say anything else, a loud explosion reverberates through the room, shaking the walls and sending a shockwave through us all. The sound is deafening, and for a moment, everything is chaos. The windows rattle, and a cloud of dust fills the air.

“What the hell was that?” Alessandro shouts, his voice barely audible over the ringing in my ears.

I look around, my instincts kicking into high gear. The bodyguards are already moving, weapons drawn, eyes scanning for threats. My hand grips my concealed weapon, ready to defend myself if necessary.

I know what that sound was.

That was a car exploding.