Chapter Four

~ Vito ~

Meeting with Vinnie Borelli was not the first thing I would have chosen for Anthony to do after accepting that he was the new head of the family, but I had no other choice.

If we didn't play nice, a war between the families could start. Considering Carlos Borelli, the true head of the Borelli family, lived in Italy, keeping things peaceful was a must.

And that meant showing respect.

I wasn't sure Anthony had it in him. He hadn't been disrespectful or anything, but there were some lines that you didn't cross when speaking to a mafia don and I doubted Anthony knew what they were.

"So, we're going to go in and pay our respects to Borelli," I started. "Beyond greeting him, I want you to let me do all the talking. Borelli knows you are new to your position so I doubt he'll ask you any deep questions."

"Define deep."

"Anything pertaining to the family or organization."

"Well," Anthony said, "I don't know much about either so that won't be a problem."

"Anthony—"

Anthony glared at me. "Stop calling me Anthony. That was my father's name. My name is Tony."

"Very well, Tony. You can call me Vito."

He nodded.

"As I was saying, Borelli shouldn't ask you anything too important so try and let me do most of the talking unless he addresses you directly. And remember, be respectful."

"I'm not stupid, Vito," Tony snapped. "I know who Borelli is and I know what it'll mean if I piss him off. I'll be a good little boy."

I doubted he'd been a good boy a single time in his entire life. He had naughty written all over him.

"Once you've gotten your feet wet, things will get easier," I pointed out. "You just need to learn the ropes."

Tony groaned and dropped his head back against the seat. "That sounds boring."

It rankled a little bit that Tony was dismissing my life's work as boring. "Better bored than dead."

Tony snorted. "Says you."

I could feel a headache coming on.

"Please be serious about this, Tony."

Tony's face instantly changed, his jaw firming and his eyebrows pulling down low over his face. "I can be plenty serious when the occasion calls for it, Vito. As much as I need to learn all of this shit, you need to learn about me. At this point, you know nothing beyond the fact that at some point twenty some odd years ago, my father bumped uglies with my mother and I was the result. You know nothing about me."

"My apologies, sir." Yeah, I'd stepped into that one. "My job as your underboss is to ensure your safety and the safety of our family and organization. I did not mean to offend you."

"You didn't offend me," Tony replied. "I've been called a lot of things in my life and very few of them were good. I don't offend easily."

"Yes, sir."

I knew he was right. I knew nothing about him beyond the fact that he was Don D'Angelo's illegitimate son. If we were going to work together, I needed to learn more about him, what his capabilities were, and what I needed to teach him.

It might be the only way we'd survive this transition. The vultures were already circling, hoping to grab a piece of our organization. There was very little time to teach him what he needed to know.

"So, I'm confused about something," Tony stated. "The Borelli family and the D'Angelo family are both based in Italy, right?"

"That is correct."

"How does that work?" he asked. "I mean, do they all get along or fight or what?"

I was glad he was asking questions, but did he really have to start with this one? It was complicated even for people that had grown up in the mob.

"There are currently four families based in Italy. Each of them govern their own territories. Some of them have branched out into other countries. For example, the Borelli's have a branch of their organization in New York City while we have one in Chicago."

"Huh, I've never been to Chicago."

"There will be plenty of opportunities for you to visit in the coming months," I stated. "Since you are new to your position, it would be good for you to visit all of your territories so people can see who you are."

"Do we have branches anywhere else?"

"We have a small branch in London, which is why you have a place there. We also have satellite offices in several of the Asian countries, some in Europe, and one in Los Angeles, although I would not suggest visiting that one as we are currently in a dispute with a cartel over there."

"A dispute over what?" Tony asked.

"Territory boundaries," I replied. "They want to sell their drugs in our territories. We've allowed it in the past, but they had to pay for the privilege. They no longer want to pay. They just want to take over the territory."

"Are we into drugs?"

"We don't manufacture them, but we do take a cut from those that do. The bulk of our money comes from shipping, which is why we have so many branch offices around the world."

"I know nothing about shipping and I'm horrible at geography."

I let out a small chuckle. "That's alright, Tony. You don't have to be. Most of what you will be doing is approving deals and making sure that the organization runs smoothly. You don't have to know all the ins and outs."

Tony shot me a look I didn't understand. "Do you know?"

"Yes, but I grew up in the organization. My father worked for yours before he passed away. I started at the bottom and worked my way up, learning everything along the way."

"How old were you when you started?"

"Ten," I replied. "Your father had a rule about no one starting in the business until they were at least ten years old. He wanted them to experience being a child before having to grow up."

Tony snorted and crossed his arms, looking out the passenger side window. "Maybe it was just me then."

"You what?" I asked.

"My father seemed so concerned with the welfare of everyone except me." The smile on Tony's face when he turned to look at me sent a shiver down my spine, but the sadness in his yes made me want to punch his father. "So, maybe it was just me. Maybe I was the only child he wasn't concerned with."

"I told you he sent money every month for your upkeep."

"Did he ever check to see if I was actually receiving that money? Or send one of his underlings to check? Because I can assure you, I never saw a penny."

I didn't have an answer for that.

"I don't know," I replied honestly. "I can only tell you about the man I grew up around. I can't comment on something that happened before I was there."

"And anyone that could is dead, right?"

"Uhm, that may not be true. My uncle was around during that time."

"Your uncle." Tony squinted for a moment. "He was my father's advisor, right?"

"He was," I admitted. "He's been your father's consigliere for almost forty years, but they were friends before then."

"How is it he didn't die in the explosion? Or you?"

"Uncle Carmine had been away on business. He was on his way home to attend the wedding when his flight got delayed so he chartered a jet. I was sent to pick him up at the airport and get him to the wedding. The bomb went off before we arrived."

I still got sick to my stomach when I remembered the scene we had pulled up to twenty minutes after the bomb exploded. There had been carnage everywhere, blood and bodies and so much burning debris we'd had to dig through it to get to everyone.

"Why didn't he take one of the family jets?"

"They had all been put into use bringing family in for the wedding."

"Let's not celebrate like that again. I like breathing."

"As much as I'd like to tell you that there is no danger, there is. We still don't know who set the bomb. We're looking into it, and we have a few ideas, but no concrete proof."

"It wasn't the Borelli family was it?"

I shook my head. "While I can't promise it wasn't them one hundred percent, I doubt it. The Borelli family has no reason to go after us. Their territory is bigger than ours and we don't deal in the same merchandise."

"Do they really need a reason?" Tony asked. "They are mafia."

I scowled at him before I could stop myself. "Contrary to modern movies and books, the mafia does not do stupid things just to do them. It has to be of use to them before they act."

Tony lifted an eyebrow. "Well, somebody certainly did or I wouldn't be in this position."

"Oh, no, I'm sure whoever placed that bomb was thinking taking out the entire D'Angelo family would benefit them in some manner. There is only one problem with that."

"What?"

"They didn't know about you."

"Somehow, that doesn't reassure me."

"It shouldn't," I warned. "Whoever is behind this wants the entire family gone. When they learn about you, they are going to want to take you out, too. Why do you think you have such strong security?"

Tony heaved a sigh before stating, "Yeah, I was afraid you were going to say that."

"The plan is to catch them before they can take you out."

Tony let out a snort. "Good plan."

Well, it was the only one I had, so...

"We're here," I said when the car came to a stop.

"Oh, yippee," Tony groaned.

He did not sound enthused.

I just prayed he kept it together while we were visiting Borelli. I'd never personally met the man, but I'd heard horror stories about his grandfather. Carlos Borelli ran a tight ship, which I appreciated, but he didn't take shit off of anyone. Those that betrayed him usually died screaming.

I could only hope we weren't being fit for cement shoes by the end of this meeting.