"Check mate." Nicolo's nostrils flare at the pronouncement, and he's doing his best to keep his temper in check. I don't let my satisfaction show.
"Good game, uncle." I tell him, taking a step back to put some distance between us.
In an unprecedented gesture, Nicolo inclines his head and half-bows to me.
"Capo." He says through gritted teeth.
He knows he's lost, but at least he still has his dignity. For now, the plan is working. Although I'm not so naïve as to think this would stop Nicolo from further plotting taking over the famiglia.
One by one, the other members of the famiglia repeat the gesture, swearing fealty to me as the new Capo.
When the entire ceremony is done, I announce my next intentions. Knowing that Nicolo will just lay in wait, I need to quickly consolidate power. Being Capo is not enough.
"There are two things that I'd like to discuss, and which are on my agenda as the official Capo." I start. Francesco had gotten in touch with the staff, and more drinks had been served before my speech.
"Before Romina's death, the Lastra family enjoyed good relations with the Agostis. I intend to rectify that, by marrying within the Agosti family. In fact, I will have a meeting with Enzo Agosti, the new Agosti Capo, in the following days."
There's a lot of cheering, and people seem in favor of this decision. I can see from the corner of my eye that some don't look too happy. The same ones that had looked suspicious during the dinner. Interesting...
"Aside from that, you must all be aware by now of some problems in New Jersey. Some of our shipments to New York have been stopped and seized at the NJ entry points."
Everyone nods. It's not news for them either—most of them being directly involved with the chain of supply.
"I'll be partnering up with Russian Bratva, and the Agosti family, to find whoever is responsible for this and make sure they pay for this offence. I want everyone on standby for future orders."
My speech is interrupted by a phone's beep sound. It's followed by more ringtones, including my own. Everyone in the room is now checking their phones.
"Yes," I answer at the same time as Nicolo picks up his phone.
"Irish attack in Newark." Vlad's grim tone greets me on the other line.
"And?"
"Stolen merchandise and casualties. Both our sides. It's a declaration."
I purse my lips.
"At least we know who's doing it now." I reply.
Vlad chuckles on the other line.
"They don't know what they've unleashed."
I smile at that.
"It's on." I add before hanging up.
The men are all sporting a worried look on their faces. Everyone's heard about the attack by now.
"And we are officially at war with the Irish. I want everyone to send me a report with what you do, how many men you have under you, and your precise schedules and locations."
"Yes!" Everyone agrees in unison.
"Good. Meeting over." Nicolo is watching me with an inscrutable look on his face.
"You'll be the end of this family, boy. Mark my words."
I freeze at his appellation, something that father used to call me. Trying to mask my features, I answer.
"Be careful about your end, uncle. It might come sooner than you think." I leave the threat hanging.
After everyone's left, Vlad texts me a meeting spot, and I join him to assess the casualties.
THE ATTACK HAD BEEN too well coordinated. Both Vlad and I came to that conclusion, given the timing and the location. Aside from the merchandise, we'd also ended up losing a few people.
"A mole." Vlad had declared, and I'd grimly agreed.
Things were deteriorating faster than I'd imagined, and so I'd resolved to act faster too. I'd scheduled a meeting with Enzo for the following day.
Which is why I was now sitting in his foyer, waiting to be received in his study.
"Signor Agosti can see you now." A burly man glared at me before showing me to the study.
"Marcello." Enzo regards me with a wide smile. "It's been too long."
Or not long enough, I want to mutter, but I have to do this.
"Enzo." I nod at him before taking a seat.
"So many surprises lately, wouldn't you say?" Enzo's movements are sluggish, and it's obvious he is still not completely recovered. Just a week ago he'd been in the ICU fighting for his life. He's resilient... I'll give him that.
"My condolences for your father."
"Good riddance." Enzo waves his hand dismissively. "Just like your own old man."
"Indeed." I purse my lips, but don't comment.
"Do tell, Marcello. What is the purpose for this visit?" His smile is cunning, but he must be aware of the purpose.
"To bury the hatchet, so to speak."
"You know, just because your brother is dead, that doesn't mean our conflict ends."
"I'm sure you've heard how Jimenez died." I go straight to the point. That he received me this civil tells me he is willing to have a proper discussion, regardless of the past.
"Some." He looks intrigued, so I continue.
"I was there. So was my brother. Valentino was the one who killed Jimenez—retribution for Romina's death." I stop to gauge his reaction.
"Go on." Enzo urges me.
"Jimenez used Romina's death to drive a rift between our families."
"And then he picked on us one at a time." Enzo interrupts. "I must admit, I'd been thinking about this for a while. You just confirmed my suspicions. When my father first got involved with the Irish, I advised him to keep our options open, but he was bent on pursuing that partnership. But, alas, I will not blame my father for this entirely, since I didn't exactly do much to stop it. I was blinded by the possibilities too."
"So you suspected them?"
"Suspect? Hmm... I wouldn't say suspect, in as much as I didn't trust their intentions. But I never thought they would work for Jimenez. And that was my mistake."
"I don't think anyone could have known. The Irish aren't known to work with the cartels."
"And that's why it was such a brilliant move. They played us on our expectations." Enzo taps his pen on the table. "The world is changing, but we aren't. Our families are too steeped in tradition."
"Maybe we can do something about it."
"Hmm... lofty aspirations for someone who left, Marcello."
"It might be doable." I continue.
Enzo shrugs. "Then you might as well get to why you came here."
I clear my throat. "I want an alliance. I want our families to get along as they did before."
"Interesting." Enzo replies and stands up, heading towards his decanter. Pouring two drinks, he hands me a glass. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Marcello?" Enzo raises an eyebrow at me.
"Yes." I answer.
"I must inquire about the marriageable girls of age. I have to warn you, though. You won't have too many choices."
"As long as she's of age." I say and almost grimace at my words. That would mean an eighteen-year-old. What do I even do with someone that young?