Chapter 35 MICELI

The godfather lives in a 20,000 square foot mansion in Brooklyn. When he bought it back in the day, he also bought the surrounding houses.

He promptly tore them down before installing a high brick wall and planting fast growing arborvitaes that now tower twice the height of the wall.

He's the fucking godfather of the entire Cosa Nostra in America and probably the only man in New York who could get the planning permissions, but he got them.

And the house is as secluded as any can be in this borough. There is no line of site from the outside, unless you've got a drone. But he's got anti-drone technology installed by our people, so I know it works.

Someone could put cameras in the trees. Unlikely though. He's our godfather. Not only does he have powerful law enforcement on his payroll, but his property is continuously swept on a random schedule by quadrant for bugs and cameras.

Are we still taking a risk dumping bodies on the drive in the crowded borough of Brooklyn?

Yes. We're also making a statement.

The Genovese fear no one.

Two Lucchese soldiers come outside, weapons drawn, but pointing downward. I lean back against the car and pull out my phone, my thumb sliding over the screen to turn on the recording feature.

Then I open a game and start crushing candy.

"We're here to see Don Caruso." I don't bother to look at the two Lucchese men. "He knows why we're here. "

Sev called the godfather and told him what happened and what to expect. My brother refused to talk terms over the phone and informed Don Caruso I am the Genovese representative in this matter.

Salvatore's phone rings. He curses, but doesn't answer. He doesn't greet the soldiers either.

Our silent stance is clear. We are waiting for the godfather.

This time Salvatore's phone buzzes. It's not on silent, but the buzz is low enough the two soldiers won't hear it unless they get closer to us.

The fucking phone is buzzing for the fifth time when the other door opens too. This time, four men come out walking abreast two-by-two, followed by Henry Caruso, that asshole.

Less than a minute later, the godfather comes out, surrounded by six more men.

The security team is overkill.

Our godfather has no reason to fear us. I'm loyal. Salvatore is loyal.

The whole fucking team has their guns drawn. Am I supposed to be intimidated?

I'm not. If they were going to start shooting, they'd have silencers attached.

Henry Caruso makes a movement with his hand and the guns are lifted to point at us. Another empty gesture but one I won't forget.

Would anyone really miss this guy if I disappeared him?

Our men stay on alert, but I don't signal them to draw their guns. A De Luca doesn't make empty gestures. If I tell my men to draw, my gun will be in my hand too and we shoot to kill.

Why in the hell is the godfather allowing his nephew to appear to take tactical point? Appear because I don't believe for a second those soldiers are shooting on anyone's orders but Don Caruso's.

I put my fist over my heart and bow my head. Slightly. The theatrics are pissing me off. Salvatore does the same, with the same small inclination of his head.

"Godfather," we say together.

"Miceli." Don Caruso shifts his gaze to my cousin. "Salvatore."

The phone buzzes again.

"Answer the damn thing." There's a reason my cousin isn't putting the phone on silent.

He wants to talk to whoever is calling. I want to make another point.

The godfather gives me a look of censure when my cousin obeys.

The harsh, "What?" that comes out of Salvatore's mouth doesn't surprise me.

The fact he talks for almost a minute does.

Maybe he's making a point too .

This, the dozen soldiers with their guns pointed at us. It's all bullshit and the only reason Henry is getting away with it is because we're on the godfather's property.

The men are not the show of strength he thinks they are though. They make him look weak. Our godfather too. If he has to protect himself from other Cosa Nostra, he's not certain of his hold on the mafia.

I look at the godfather, refusing to acknowledge the soldiers around us. He stares back stoically.

Salvatore's phone buzzes. Again.

The cocktail waitress has balls, I'll give her that.

My cousin says, "Excuse me, I need to take this."

Perfectly played. I approve.

A flash of respect shows on the godfather's face and he nods. Henry is turning red, his mouth working like he wants to say something.

"My mother sends her regards, godfather," I say into the silence. "She would like to visit soon."

Which is not true, but neither is it a lie. My mother would send her regards if she knew I was coming today and probably some of Emilia's panna cotta to tempt the godfather's appetite.

"Your mother is a good woman. Seeing her makes me miss my own Sophia, God rest her soul." He sighs. "Tell her to come for lunch on Saturday. Father John will join us."

The cardinal began as a priest in Don Caruso's family's church and is the only one to hear the godfather's confession for over fifty years.

"I'll tell her."

The godfather taps twice downward with his forefinger. His men lower their guns.

Henry slams his own gun against his thigh. "What the fu—"

"Silence," Don Caruso cuts him off, his tone sharp but his voice does not carry.

He has always been known as the don with a soft voice and ruthless nature, but this is different. His voice is almost weak.

Salvatore returns, his eyes reflecting satisfaction. The call went well then.

"You finished talking to your girlfriend?" I ask.

What else is he going to call a woman he kidnapped and has trapped in his apartment?

The godfather leans heavily on his cane but gives my cousin a harsh glare. "Maybe you want to explain to me how this is not an act of war on behalf of your don?"

Here we go .

The political jockeying I hate. And Sev knows it. I swear he sent me, instead of coming himself, because I ate the leftover cannoli from dinner last night.

Henry gloats like the man who knocked his opponent's knight from the chessboard but doesn't realize it's opened him up to lose his king.

Giamope .

How is this fool going to run the Lucchese Family? He can't even see two steps ahead.

Salvatore gives a brief rundown of what happened this morning. In our fucking territory .

"A cocktail waitress who shakes her ass for tips and doesn't even make your club extra money is hardly one of your own," the godfather dismisses.

Well, fuck.

Salvatore is attached to that cocktail waitress. To the point of taking her phone call in the middle of this pissing contest. I watch my cousin's hand twitch but he doesn't go for his gun.

I should be glad of my cousin's restraint. But maiming a few arrogant Lucchese soldiers stupid enough to draw on us would be fun.

However, killing our godfather's would start a war for sure.

"Amuni is one of our legit businesses," Salvatore grits out.

"Which makes this puttana even less one of your own," Henry sneers.

The man just can't help being a giamope .

My cousin takes a step toward the other capo. "Call my girlfriend a whore again and I will end you."

Henry can't meet Salvatore's eyes.

Codardo . And a spineless one.

"It is true then? The woman is your girlfriend." Don Caruso measures Salvatore with his gaze. "I had heard that is what you told the hospital, but I dismissed it as provocative gossip."

No surprise our godfather knows what's happening in the other boroughs. His intelligence network is legendary, but it's based on aging informants.

Sev's is already more efficient and pervasive. When he is godfather, he'll expand it.

"I thought Captain Playboy didn't do committed relationships." Henry can't stand being left out of the conversation.

Salvatore looks at Henry like the little pissant he is. "She is mine."

Well, fuck. Does my cousin realize he sounds just like Sev talking about Catalina? That's not temporary until duty calls him to the altar stuff .

Salvatore is showing signs of falling in love. If I didn't see it for myself, I wouldn't believe it, but he's hung up on this girl. My cousin's every bit as gone over this Bianca chick as Sev is over Catalina.

After what happened when Salvatore got made, I thought those emotions died alone along with the traitorous bitch he had to kill.

Fuck. Another De Luca brought to his knees by a woman.

That will never be me.

An image of kneeling to eat out Róise pussy flashes in my brain and I shove it away. After appreciating that pretty pink pussy for a few seconds.

That's sex. Not love.

Don Caruso chastises Salvatore for not protecting Bianca. No way is he transferring blame to us for his nephew's men acting without sanction in our territory.

"Only a fool doesn't protect what is important to him," Don Caruso criticizes.

Salvatore's eyes light with victory. "I'm glad you see it that way, Godfather, since I killed the three men who tried to harm her."

Henry about chokes on his own breath. He knows his uncle just hung him out to dry.

It's time to step in. I look directly into Don Caruso's eyes when I speak. "Regardless of their target, your capo's men were in our territory and they tried to kill someone without Severu's approval."

He's both don and godfather. Every action of a Lucchese soldier ultimately lays at his feet. And he knows it.

"Was it a hit?" Salvatore asks Henry.

The giamope pales, sweat gleaming on his forehead. "No."

Either he's scared shitless of being accused, or he's lying when he says no . Henry Caruso needs to be watched more closely.

His uncle sighs. "Does your don seek reparations?"

"Uncle—"

"Shut it," Don Caruso cuts his nephew off. "You need to control your men."

He glares at me next. "And your brother needs to prove his strength if he wants my support to take my place."

My shrug disguises the rage his words invoke.

"Severu's inclination is to wipe out your nephew and all his men in retaliation for this act of aggression. I thought you would be against it, but if you're sanctioning retribution…" I let my voice trail off with insolence I would not have shown this man a year ago.

Don Caruso swells with fury, but even that is muted in this sickly old man .

I would offer him nothing but respect, despite his physical weakness. But he made a huge mistake implying Sev doesn't have the ruthlessness to run the Genovese, much less the Cosa Nostra.

"My uncle said reparations not retribution," Henry splutters.

I ignore him like the pathetic buzzing fly he is and stare down our once powerful godfather.

"My nephew will pay a tithe to Severu for three months." Don Caruso looks with disgust on his nephew's dead men. "One for each man on his crew he could not control."

"Did you have to cut off their hands? It's going to upset their families," Henry whines.

"You're damn lucky we didn't chop them up into bite size pieces and dump them in the river."

I appreciate the imagery of Salvatore's words, but we don't dump bodies in the river. That's for old-timers and amateurs.

We've got a chemical bath under the floor of The Box that destroys bodies down to the molecular level.

"For the three months of the reparation tithe, we expect Lucchese soldiers to stay out of Manhattan," I warn Don Caruso. "Any found in our territory will not be returning for a proper burial, or otherwise, regardless of their reason for being there."

Don Caruso shakes his head. "We have always had good relations between our families."

Yeah, no.

The Five Families fight like siblings and sometimes we draw blood.

But I give the godfather the words he needs to hear. "And that will continue if there is no further aggression."

I'm not offering anything more than that. Sev will protect his family at all costs, and if that means wiping out another Family, he'll do it. And I'll be standing beside him, doing what I was born to do.

Be Mars. The god of war.