41. Simon

The best three days of my life.

Leaving that apartment with Emily in tow is probably one of the hardest things I've ever done. Every inch of me wants to be back inside, back in that bed with my wife, making her come over and over again, laughing with her and feeling like I've finally found a real partner. She could even call it humping. Even though that word offends me on a spiritual level.

But that was never the plan. All this time I've been in constant contact with Davide and my mother going over our options and discussing what Dad's been up to. I've also been in touch with multiple different capos and lieutenants as the entire Famiglia starts to talk about what happened between me and my father.

It was never realistic, that three-day break. It was hiding, and I'm not the kind of man who wants to hide, even though a big part of me wishes I was. Because hiding with Emily is better than the alternative.

"This guy's name is Vito," I say as we approach an American-style steakhouse. It's supposed to be closed, but I know better. "He's one of my father's appointees. He's been around forever."

"What are we doing here if he's loyal to your dad?" Emily asks, glancing around the street. I park out front and kill the truck's engine.

"He's pragmatic and the other old-school Capos will listen to him. If we can convince Vito to be on my side, we might be able to press the issue without more fighting. The sooner that's done, the sooner I can concentrate on Santoro again."

Emily looks uncertain. This is why I didn't want to bring her along. What I'm doing is dangerous, and it'll only take one mistake to get us both killed.

But while I've been spending three perfect days with the woman I'm falling for, my family has been crumbling. Davide's still in a holding pattern with Dad, basically hiding him and his wife in their house surrounded by a dozen armed men, while outside Dad's men have been creeping closer. Nobody's been shot yet, but Elena says it's only a matter of time. She says she's been trying to convince Dad to call it all off, but he won't budge. She says there's not much time left.

The front door of the restaurant is unlocked like I knew it would be. Inside, the place is still only half opened, the chairs up on the tables, the floor smelling like industrial cleaner, but there are four people sitting at the bar while an English soccer game plays on TV. More guys are lounging nearby in a booth and they stare at me open-mouthed, but none of them get up to intercept as I go right up to Vito.

I wasn't kidding about him being old school. Vito's in his fifties and loves to wear a white tank top and dress slacks with enough gold jewelry to insulate him from the Chicago winters. He's thick with massive shoulders and a huge gut, and the man has an appetite to match his loud mouth.

When he spots me, the old Capo leaps to his feet. I'm amazed at how spry he is for a guy that looks like he hasn't exercised since the day he was born.

"Simon!" he comes over and kisses me on both cheeks. "The fuck are you doing here, young man? Last I heard, you were lying low. And is this that pretty new wife of yours? Holy fucking shit, she's more beautiful than I realized, no wonder you want to keep her around."

I grimace and squeeze his shoulder. "Vito, this is Emily." I expect her to shy away from the loud, brazen Capo, but instead she looks up at him and squares her shoulders.

"Nice to meet you," she says and looks at the bar. "You going to offer this lady a drink or what?"

He barks a laugh and all but shoves us down onto stools. The bartender brings Emily a gin and tonic and slides a scotch into my hand while Vito goes on and on about how good the steak and eggs are, and of course Emily asks for some, which seems to please him.

"Girl like you has to eat. You need meat on those bones, look how damn skinny you are." Vito clucks his tongue. "Modern fucking girls all think they gotta be skinny, you know? But men just want a big ass and big tits, right?"

"I've got plenty of both, don't you worry about me," Emily says, beaming at him and raising her glass in a salute.

That gets another roar of laughter. I'm all but forgotten as Vito shoots questions at Emily and she bats them back like a tennis pro, telling him about her father, about working multiple jobs, and the two of them bond over the meaning of hard work.

Emily's food arrives and, to my absolute fucking astonishment, she tucks in. Vito nods at her approvingly, and I take the opportunity to steer the conversation toward why we came in the first place.

"You know what's happening with me and my father," I tell the old Capo as Emily makes approving grunting noises and slathers her steak with A1 Sauce. "And you know how bad things are on the streets. We need a change, Vito."

The old capo may be loud and kind of a prick, but he's smart and there's a reason he's at the top of the Famiglia's hierarchy. "You think you're that change, huh, kid? Yeah, I remember when you sat in as the Don. You did good back then. But your old man isn't dead."

"You're wrong about that." My voice drops but I can feel all the men in the room listening in. "Alessandro Bianco's been dead since he got shot."

"He's a pretty fucking good zombie then." Vito grins at his own joke. Emily gives him a little laugh and elbows me in the side, winking. I could fucking kill her or kiss her, and I can't tell which yet.

"You know what I mean. Vito, he's in pain. He's pushing through it but only because he's got an unlimited supply of Vicodin. He needs a break, and we need a Don that's up for a fight, because we're getting a fight whether we like it or not."

Vito hems and haws and doesn't want to get pinned down. I push him a little harder, since the guy can't just turn his back on the Don that gave him all his power, but we both know where this dance ends. My father's past his prime, and it's time someone else took over.

Emily finishes her food and practically licks the plate. She sits back with a sigh and takes a long drink from her gin and tonic. "Vito, my friend, that was fantastic. I think I'm pregnant now."

He hoots at that. "You wouldn't be the first girl I've gotten pregnant, my dear, but please forgive the joke, Simon."

I give him a hard look. "Careful."

He barks another laugh and slaps me on the back. "Don't worry. That girl only has eyes for you. Have you noticed? The way she looks at you like you're the moon and she's the stars? It's enough to make this old, jaded fucking bastard start to believe in true love again." He sighs, hamming it up and elbows Emily. "What do you think? Should I put my weight behind Simon?"

"All of it," she says very seriously.

He grunts in reply and his smile fades. "No blood," he says, speaking very quietly now, almost right into my ear. "If we do this, there can't be blood. The second we start shooting our own people is the second I walk away. Do you hear me?"

"I can't promise that," I say, meeting his gaze. "But we want the same thing. I need to do this clean. I just don't know how my dad's going to react."

He sighs and nods. "Your old man is a fighter. He's a scrappy motherfucker. Even if he's ready for retirement, he's still formidable."

I can't even argue with that.

We hammer out some more details and Emily keeps on buttering him up, and by the time we leave, I have a promise of support from Vito. It's not solid and I don't trust him, but it's a very good start.

Back in the truck, Emily leans her head on my shoulder. She groans as she presses a hand to her belly. "I don't think I've ever eaten that much steak before in my life."

"He loved you," I tell her and kiss her forehead. "You were pretty impressive in there."

"I was trying to charm him. Now I'm a little drunk and full of meat."

"You were amazing," I say softly and tilt her chin toward me. "I loved you too, you know."

Her eyes go wide just a fraction. My heart hammers in my chest, but I've never been more sure of something before. I don't know how she's going to respond, but I need to tell her now while I can, because I'm not sure what's going to happen from here. Something might happen and I could die without ever being able to say how I feel, and I don't want that.

"You… loved me?" She asks, eyes very wide.

"Come on, you're not surprised. I'm falling hard for you, Emily Bianco. It fucked me up, it's ruining me every day, and I need it like water. I need you, baby, and I love you."

She brightens like dragging up a pair of old blinds. She practically glows as she throws herself at me, apparently no longer worried about the steak. Her mouth buries mine and I kiss her back, holding her tight, growling into the kiss. When we break apart, she's panting. "Same," she says.

I laugh, because damn it, that's fucked up and funny. "Same is not an appropriate response when someone confesses like that."

"I mean, I love you too, you big dumb idiot. Why do you think I'm wolfing down a whole cow in the middle of the morning?" She kisses me again, and she laughs, which makes me laugh, and it's almost like we're not in a terrible, desperate situation.

I almost miss the car when it passes a second time. I would've if it weren't for the driver. He slows and stares as he rolls along, and the second I glance over at him, he quickly steps on the gas and hurries away. That reaction has my alarm bells screaming. It's a nondescript car, the sort of black sedan that's all over the city, but I swear that's the second time I saw it since we left the restaurant.

Which means we're being followed.