19. Alessandro

The way the light bounces off my mother's wedding ring set has me stuck in a trance. My stomach is full and I'm ready to head home to my wife, my Evelyn. Love's never been an option for me, and falling for Evelyn makes me want to do everything to keep the promises I"ve made to her and her family.

"Look at my boy," Pop says, beaming from ear to ear. "I did the same thing, you know? Stared at that ring until I couldn't stomach it. The craziest thing about this life is I can look a guy in the eyes while I put a bullet between them, but talking to your mother's father? Getting a hard working man to trust his little girl with a goon like me? I was shaking."

I laugh. "Grandpa Baldoni, I definitely don't remember them much."

"Yeah, well, that's because your mother knew the life I was in and kept them at arm's length. Once they found out their son was mixed up with me too, they washed their hands of us. It's a shame because your mother loved them to pieces, but at least she had Oscar around. Now? Oscar's alone, his folks are gone, his sister buried in the plot beside them, and he's not getting any younger. No kids or anything. I imagine he sees my life, his, and yours, and may not like where his is headed."

"Envy is dangerous."

"But the power he has is enough. You know, if I decide to step down, Alessandro, you have a choice to make. I see your vision for the Family, and I see Oscar's."

"Yeah? What do you see?"

"I see you, your brains, your controlled rage that you wield like a surgeon's scalpel. It's exactly what a corporation needs in a CEO. A Mafia Don? I don't know."

"Pop, you know that I've always believed the old way of doing things is aging out. Technology makes it hard to get away with anything, and there's no code these guys follow anymore. You can't run an organization like yours forever because the list of people you can trust gets chopped down every week."

"So, like I said, I'm still giving things some thought. Lara's got some ideas about getting me out of the city a bit. She's tough on me, but I like her. She keeps me young."

I snicker and shake my head. "I heard she had you doing yoga."

"Well, I fucked around and told her that I'd try anything once. Traveling to get a break from New York isn't a bad thing while people think I'm on my deathbed. It lets you and Oscar sort through your taking over."

"I don't see Oscar stepping down peacefully."

"He's going to do what he's fucking told because I say who's the next don. Me. And my choice is, and has always been, you. Your choice is whether to lean into all these businesses you got washing the money or keep our boys on the street employed running the rackets. They got families to feed too, Alessandro."

"I'll figure it out. I don't want anyone to lose any money, but some of these guys talk too much. There's no reason that Don Montegna found out about the guy I sliced up in Zio's pool house."

Pop nods. "You're right about that. We'll plug our leaks."

He's about to say more when Lorenzo comes running into the dining room.

"We gotta go, Less," he says in a panic.

My father doesn't say anything, simply nodding for me to go. I snap the ring box shut, shoving it in my pocket, and head out the door. Lorenzo's already in the car with the engine running by the time I hop into the front seat.

"What's wrong, Ren?"

"It's Evelyn," he says. "She just called from the hospital. They got into a car accident."

"Just go! I want to hear it from her," I tell him, and he peels out of the parking spot into the street. By the time we get to Brooklyn, nearly an hour's gone by after fighting rush hour traffic. Lorenzo stays in the car since parking is shit around Downtown Brooklyn, and I run into the ER.

A series of beeps, people talking, nurses shouting, and smells of cleanser and illness swarm me all at the same time. My pulse beats louder and louder by the minute as I head toward the check-in desk where a nurse sits behind a computer, talking on the phone.

I have to keep my composure because last time I came to a hospital with this much excitement, I ended up fighting an orderly. Still, I want her to hurry up as if Evelyn is different from every other patient who comes into this place. She is to me.

"I need to find my wife," I blurt out to the woman.

She raises her eyes and stares at me a moment before tipping her head to the side. Covering the phone's receiver with her hand, she squints and says, "Are you a friend of Fredo Smith?"

Fucking Dimitri's imaginary friend to keep people away from him at Kings.

"I'm Mr. Vassa's attorney. If you know Fredo Smith, then you've been to Kings. Please, my wife was in an accident. I need to see her. Member to member favor?"

"Oh, I was just a guest, but I remember you from the other day. I was in there with my girlfriends."

I cut her off, slamming my hands on the desk. "I need to know what room Evelyn De Luca is in."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine, give me a sec. Sorry, there's no Evelyn De Luca on my list."

I pause, regaining my composure. "Check Evelyn Rossi, please. We were just married last week and her name change hasn't gone through yet."

"Oh, yes, right here. She's in Room 110. Go down that hall to the left, and it's the third door on your right."

"Thank you, and if a tall guy who looks like Ken as a G.I. Joe comes in, send him to the room too. Name's Lorenzo Portero."

"Already on the list, Mr. De Luca."

I take off before she can finish irritating me and head toward the room, dodging nurses, doctors, and patients along the way. When I walk inside, my heart pounds as the sounds of a beeping monitor fill the room. A hideous pink curtain separates one bed from the other. With the first one empty, I fear the worst. Uncertain of who's there, whether there's danger from everything that's been happening, I pull out my knife.

When I slide the curtain back, to my sickening relief, it's Jenkins. A door opens behind me, and Evelyn walks out to see me standing beside her bodyguard, knife in hand.

"Alessandro, what the hell?"

Slipping the blade back in place, I rush over to her, taking her face into my hands and kissing her. My tongue tastes hers, my body craving the way she reacts to me. Finally, I pull away.

"Mio dolce, what happened?"

She nudges her chin toward Jenkins. "We were followed, and the fucker sent us skidding into a fucking divider under the BQE. I don't want to stay here, Alessandro."

"I don't want you to stay, either. We need to get him out of here, too."

She shakes her head with tears welling in her eyes. "He needs surgery. He's got a broken arm, ribs, and the force of the crash crushed something inside. His spleen or something."

"What about you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, babe, I swear. Just a bump on the head," she says, moving her hair out of the way. "I turned to look at Jenkins as we slammed to a stop, and the air bag got me."

I kiss around the area gently. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault."

That's when rage begins to overtake my relief. "You're right. I'm going to find out who did this, and they'll be strung up like the last man who decided to fuck with my family. How about we get you home and get Jenkins set up at Bailey Cedar, where my father was? It's private and away from this circus."

"I second that," Jenkins groans from his bed. "These idiots couldn't even draw blood without sticking me eight times."

"Okay, sit tight, and I'll get transport for you," I tell him.

Lorenzo walks in a few minutes later as I get on the phone to arrange for Jenkins to be moved. Once we have that sorted, Lorenzo and I walk with Evelyn to check out of the hospital and head home. However, the moment we step into the late evening, that off feeling overwhelms me. My eyes jump from window to window, person to person, car to car, but there's nothing for me to see.

Lorenzo leaves us to bring the car around when shots ring out. The several pings of bullets hitting objects around us sends everyone scurrying in different directions. I grab Evelyn by the waist and spin her around behind me, making our way to the street where we can duck between parked cars.

Blood is going to spill in these streets, and I'm going to be damn sure it's not mine or Evelyn's.