"What makes you think I'm not one?"
"You're here. Unarmed. No army of bodyguards." He smiles, showing big yellow teeth.
"Should I have brought any?"
"Perhaps." He takes another drag and motions me towards a chair.
"Call me Francesco." He nods at me. I take the seat across from him.
Francesco had been my brother's underboss and trusted right hand. And he was among the only ones to join the ranks after father's death. I'd read the report. Valentino had helped Francesco and his family, bringing them from Italy to the States and promising a better future for his children. Francesco had sworn fealty to my brother and had quickly climbed the ranks to become a most trusted asset. After a week at the Lastra house, I'd realized that things were more dire than I'd expected. The finances were a mess, and over the years someone had been siphoning money from almost all accounts. Valentino, in his quest for revenge, hadn't seemed to care that much to keep up with the business. His sole focus had been Jimenez.
I'd immediately guessed that the problem lies with father's men. Aside from Francesco and the young soldiers, all the important men in the famiglia were among father's inner circle. Which is also why I'd come to meet Francesco. If I want to make a change within the famiglia, it has to start from the inside.
"Francesco. I think you know why I'm here." I add, pulling some sheets of paper from my briefcase. I compiled all the evidence of irregular activity I'd found. He takes them and peruses them slowly, narrowing his eyes now and then.
"So?" He finally says after he puts the sheets down.
"I thought you'd have some insight."
He scowls at me.
"And why did you think that?"
"Because I'm told you don't play very well with the others." I respond. Francesco regards me silently for a second.
"And who told you that?"
"I can't reveal that." I shrug. A lot of the information had come from Vlad. His relationship with Valentino had been tighter than I'd realized. I don't know exactly what Vlad's endgame is, but I've learned that the information he provides, while correct, is never complete. He likes to toy with people like that—give them crumbs and hope they'd figure it out. But I'll take what I can. It wasn't hard to paint a picture of the last ten years of business. But now, I need to choose my battles carefully. Gain footing within the famiglia, solve the shipment crisis, and then get rid of the rotten apples. Theoretically an easy feat. But we're talking about old mafia men. Gangsters who'd most likely lived through the heyday of the five families and had survived both enemies and the police. I had to approach this strategically. And the first step is to find myself people I can trust.
"What I can reveal, however," I continue, "is that things are going to change."
"Change?" Francesco snorts. "You think your brother didn't try that?"
"Not enough. I won't pretend to know how Tino ran things around here, since I didn't witness it myself. But what I do know, is what those reports are telling me. The business is almost in the ground, and factions have developed within the famiglia. Factions that would no doubt love to see me out of my position now. Let's be frank here. Tino must have faced this as well. Those people who were my father's biggest supporters are still around. And they aren't satisfied with their lot."
Francesco grunts. Taking another drag of his cheroot, he replies.
"Valentino didn't manage to do what you're hinting at in ten years. What makes you think you can do it now?"
"My brother was distracted. Romina's death weighed heavily on his shoulders, and his attention was not on the famiglia. I'm not. But more than that, I have something that Tino did not."
"And what's that?" He raises an eyebrow at me.
"Knowledge about the inner circle. That... and enough distaste for their kind that I will not fail. The question is... will you join me?"
"What makes you think I'm not with them?" His eyes study me closely, but my face gives nothing away. Father may have been a monster, but he trained me well.
"You're not." I push forward another document. He picks it up and frowns at the contents.
"This..." His voice is full of disbelief.
"Your son is free to do as he pleases now." I explain. Nicolo and his associates had been trying to get blackmail material on Francesco for a long time. He thought he'd finally succeeded when Francesco's teenage son had been caught by the police in a stabbing gone wrong.
"But how?"
"I'm a lawyer. I also worked with the D.A. Your son's case was fabricated. It was just a matter of untangling the web of evidence."
I can already tell I have him. I stand up to leave, but not before I hear him say.
"Grazie, capo."
I nod and take my leave.
One ally.
It's a start.
THE PREPARATIONS HAVE already started for the meeting with the famiglia. I'd decided for an ostentatious banquet that should mark the beginning of my leadership. I'd never wanted to be in this position because I know what I have to do to make sure I keep everyone in line.
Respect in the famiglia is earned. But that would take time. So for now, I'll settle for fear.
The last ten years will be completely erased. It will be like I never really left. Maybe it's my fate to have to do something I loathe with my entire being, but to keep on doing it.
I take in the masterpiece in front of me, all previous worries wiped from my mind. I hear Amelia gasp as she enters the ballroom, her hand going to her mouth.
"Now, Amelia." I put my hand up. "Please take all our guests in the drawing room. And when the attendance list is full, you can guide them here."
Her face is white, but she slowly nods at me.
It's almost an hour later that the doors to the ballroom open. I'm propped on the wall opposite the doors, champagne flute in hand, watching.
The men trickle in, all dressed in tuxedos. The first batch comes in and stops at the sight. I see a few men swallow anxiously before moving forward. It goes on like this until the last person has made it inside.
"Good evening, gentleman!" I incline my head and raise my glass.
"What's the meaning of this?" My uncle, Nicolo, steps forward.
"Well, it is as you can see. My gift to the famiglia."
All the men are staring at the north-facing wall, and the carnage depicted on it. I'm rather proud of this work, maybe because this time it is personal.
There are two rows of decapitated human heads nailed to the wall. The two rows meet at a junction to form a T. I am sure everyone in the room is aware of what this T means. Traditore. Traitor.
There are six heads since I could only find definitive evidence to punish six people for their crimes against the famiglia. But they were six made men governed by omerta—they didn't talk. Initially, I'd thought to get the rest of the names out of them by means of torture. Sometimes I forget that not everyone reacts to torture the same. These men hadn't.
Pity.
My job will be much more difficult. But at least now the rest of the famiglia knows I'm not playing games.
"Please, everyone, take a seat." There are three rows of tables in the room, all of them carefully prepared in advance. They also have name tags. This isn't only a show of strength, it's also a study. By seating them strategically, I can observe the interactions between different members. It should be fun.