Chapter 8

Chapter

Eight

Bosley

Driving through the Buccelli territory was pissing me off. It'd been five days, and each one was more disappointing than the day before it.

Thankfully, I had Cory back at the hotel to hang out with and tease. He was the one bright spot in my day. We'd been meeting at Vigor each morning, running the treadmill or spotting each other at the weights. He was easy on the eyes. A good conversationalist and so damn quirky, I couldn't get enough.

Those suspenders with the newsboy hat he wore while working drove me crazy, but that was nothing compared to how hot I got when he wore those silly waistcoats. Who even wore those anymore? But there was something about how old-fashioned and buttoned-up it made him look that made me want to get him dirty.

The deal I'd made with Niccolò Buccelli had been foolish. I didn't involve myself with the politics of the Families. It was bad for business. For my business . Someone needed a shady piece of shit taken out, I handled it. I didn't care who hired me. As long as their money was green, the target was as dirty as me, and they paid upfront, I was their button man.

Ha. Button man. If I wasn't mistaken, that was 20s slang for professional hitman. Pulling out my phone, I went to my old and wise friend Google and looked it up. And yep, I was right. Cory would get a kick out of that if he knew what I did for a living. I mean, along with completely horrified. But he didn't know because I'd grown adept at side-stepping those kinds of questions over the years. All anyone needed to know was that I was a businessman who consulted with others and got paid handsomely for my contribution.

Besides, Cory and I weren't dating or anything. A handy here, a blow job there. It was all friendly. Two men blowing off steam with each other. He had the pressure of running a thriving hotel with some asshole running around making his life difficult, and I had this…whatever the fuck it was Nico had me doing.

Since that first night, Cory had never slipped and called me Daddy again, and I'd never called him boy. Would never call him boy. I didn't do long-term. I didn't do commitments. It wasn't safe or fair to a partner. And Cory was still grieving his husband. The last thing he needed to deal with was the likes of me.

I liked that I was helping him with his little problem at the hotel, though. It made me feel good to be useful without it involving blood. And Nico had held up his part of the bargain. A few of his men had come over that night and fitted the hotel lobby, hallways, and elevator with cameras. It made Cory nervous, and he worried that customers would complain, but I'd promised him total discretion, and he'd get it.

I'd made it clear to Nico that anything his guys saw in The Gin Mill, especially if it involved their enemies, had to be verified and confirmed a different way so it wouldn't lead back to Cory. I wasn't pulling the hotel or him into mob bullshit. Didn't want him in danger. For his part, he was leery of the men, even though they arrived respectably dressed in suits and kept their guns discreetly tucked away.

Besides not telling Cory that these men were Buccelli soldiers, I hadn't mentioned the one camera that I'd planted. The one that I'd installed in his office while he'd been blissed out of his mind and half-asleep in his chair the day I'd gone to his office. I wasn't spying on him, but I was concerned about the break-ins with the lack of theft. It bothered me there were no clues. Why The Gin Mill? Why do it if you didn't plan on stealing anything? Unless the objective was taunting Cory, and I couldn't have that.

The phone rang, flashing unknown number across the screen. Since it was the day and time that Nico was supposed to check in with me, I pulled over to the side of the road and picked up.

"What have you found?" Nico asked in lieu of a proper greeting.

"I found shit-all so far, except the fact your territory is going to hell. What the fuck is going on here, Niccolò? You told me you didn't know who you could trust, but you never said that you have no control within your own boundaries."

"Watch yourself, Romeo."

I snorted. His pulling that Boss bullshit with me had done cast off and sailed. It wouldn't have worked anyway, but even less so now that he'd shown his hand and admitted his need. "Don't pull that shit with me. I'm your old friend, remember? Isn't that what you said when you pushed for this?"

"I asked for my old friend to do me a favor. You're the one who made it into this bizarre deal."

Trust didn't come easily for me. It had to be earned, over and over again. I'd been born into the shadows, lived there my whole life. I knew the depravity of human nature. I knew the greed of riches. I knew how far a man would go for his next hit of blow or for power. But the minute amount of trust I had, that one speck, belonged to this man.

"What can I say? You needed something, and I had a problem that I thought you could handle."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he growled.

"It means your guys haven't found shit at that hotel yet. The owner's still walking around stressed out, and I don't like it." I didn't even want to imagine how he'd have been if I hadn't stayed around, hadn't had a solution to fix it that wouldn't cost him out the ass.

"And what have you found, Romeo Caputo?" Nico sneered. "You've almost been here for a week. I thought you'd have seen something by now."

"Oh no, I've seen plenty. Unless you're no longer in the protection business and you don't take care of what's yours, I see your boys falling down on the job. Your streets are disgusting, full of trash. There are dealers on every corner, not even trying to hide what they're doing. What's that about, Nico, huh?

"Since when does the Buccelli Family tolerate two-bit pieces of shit killing their children? I watched a hooker get tossed in the alley by her pimp before he stuck his dick in her mouth and made her gag on it. She didn't even look for help. Your Family's always considered prostitution a legitimate trade. Back in the day, my uncle would've chopped off that fucker's dick and crammed it down his own throat. This isn't the outfit your grandfather ran."

"The hell it isn't!" he burst out. "This shit-show is what he handed over to me, Romeo. It was my damn inheritance. I don't need your pompous, holier-than-thou attitude. You weren't here. You didn't have to watch things fall by the wayside after your uncle died. You didn't have to stand by and say nothing because it wasn't your time, only to have it dumped in your lap without any warning.

"I need to know who I can trust. I need to keep my family safe, and the only way that's gonna happen is if I clean out the clogs. But I gotta do it without the other Families noticing. I thought I could trust you. You said you'd help, but it appears to be too much of an inconvenience for the great Romeo Caputo."

I sucked in a sharp breath. "Fuck. I'm sorry, Don Buccelli." He'd taken me into his confidence, and I repaid him in sneers and mockery. Fuck . He knew things were out of control. That was why he'd asked me to stay, to help. Not even Vincenzo or Rocco knew why I was still around. That had been between me and Nico.

And despite it all, didn't I trust him, too? I hadn't spoken Cory's name, but I'd asked for security and protection at The Gin Mill in trade for my assistance. Nico wasn't a dumb man. He knew there was someone at the hotel who…I wanted to protect. Men like us didn't take these risks. We didn't show our cards unless…well, unless the bonds were tight from childhood like ours were.

"How did it get this bad, Nico? Tell me what's been going on."

"I can't. It's Family business."

The weariness in his voice made me wonder if we were still talking about the Family he'd been chosen to rule over or if it was a little closer to home. "Are we talking about your blood family or the Family who's made vows to you?"

"It's…" He hesitated. "One unfortunately has affected the other. That's really all I can say about that."

Shit . "And what do Vin and Rocco think?" I asked.

He barked out a harsh laugh. "I told you, Vin trusts no one. Half the time, I'm not sure he even trusts me. Rocco wants me to go off halfcocked, splattering brain matter on the streets and leaving it for an example. I want to work smarter, Romeo. The way you taught me when I was a kid."

"I understand." And I did. Whether the Buccelli siblings knew it or not, they'd grown up in one fucked up, dysfunctional home. Their grandfather had been a good Don, though, to the Family at large. But his own kids, especially the grandkids, they'd suffered. Inside the house, behind closed doors, the adults in their family had torn at each other with barbs and petty deeds in a way that made their souls bleed, if not their flesh.

"Listen, I've been driving around during the day within the territory lines. I spent some time at the Port Authority, too, watching how your guys are dealing with the other crews over there. Let me creep around at night a little and see what else I can come up with, okay? I know waiting is hard. But in my line of work, patience isn't only a virtue, it's what keeps me alive. Trust me to do the same for you. I won't head back out of town until I've cut the heads off a few snakes on your behalf, Don Buccelli."

He stayed silent, collecting his thoughts. "Thank you for your discretion, Mr. Caputo," he said formally.

I smiled. After my initial dishonorable behavior, it had taken two tries for him to hear me, but he'd been raised for this position. I didn't know a better man for it. And so, he heard my words. I was no longer speaking to the sad, lonely boy who'd had to be the brave protector for his siblings. I would no longer address him that way. He'd never be my Boss. The life of the Family wasn't for me. But he was Don, and he had my respect.

"No problem." I had a concern, though. "What reason did you give Vin for sending men to The Gin Mill?"

"I told him I was thinking about investing in some businesses. Maybe buying that place," he said matter-of-factly. I could hear him now. His brother would've bought that hook, line, and sinker and was probably ragey about it.

Amused, I asked, "And how did he take that?"

"About like you'd expect. Vin has big plans on ways to bring in money. Big plans. And he's not appreciative of me going around him." He chuckled softly.

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. It didn't matter to me what Vin had planned, or if they were legal or not. Two things I knew about this Family: no drugs, no human trafficking. That's all I cared about. The rest, well, who was I to lecture anyone on how they made a buck? "Your brother's smart. You should listen to him."

"I am, but I'm not making changes fast enough for him. I'd be happy to accommodate them, but first, I need to know who the rat is."

Rat? As in singular? Nah. His problems were bigger than that. "I got your back, Nico. We made a deal, and you're holding up your end. I'll hold up mine."

"I never doubted that. Keep me posted."

The phone went dead. Fuck. I ran my hand through my hair. It was a big deal—an honor—that Nico had entrusted me with his fears and concerns. It wasn't something he should do. Hell, his own siblings didn't really have a clue about the worries weighing him down.

But I'd gotten him through a hard time when he was a kid, and that meant something to him. Not that I'd ever tell him, but it meant something to me, too, and that was why I was still here.

Well, that and Cory. I hadn't intended to leave him high and dry with some petty criminal sneaking around his hotel, but I hadn't worked out a way to help him yet when I'd met with Nico. He'd made a request that had given me the perfect solution. Two birds, one stone, and all that. But I'd underestimated Nico's needs, and I wouldn't be around long enough to help him get his house in order. I'd get rid of some of the riff raft before I moved on. I'd promised him that.

This left another question, though. Was I making too light of Cory's issue at the hotel? Not liking the implications of that, I pulled up the app attached to the camera in his office and peeked in to make sure the boy—no, the man, was okay. Couldn't start thinking of him as a boy, or I'd end up in trouble on that front, too.

I found him in his office, frowning as he stared off into space. Worry creased the space between his eyebrows, and his hands were red from how tightly he gripped the arms of his desk chair. It appeared as if someone needed some more stress relief. The display on my dash read five-thirty PM. I might as well head back to The Gin Mill to play with Cory. There was nothing else to accomplish out here right now anyway. Tomorrow was another day, and I'd take a new tactic.