“When are you planning on breaking the news to Sierra?”
I turn around and take my seat behind the desk. “I’ll let things settle for a few weeks before I broach the subject.” Sierra has agreed I can visit with Rowan one day over the weekend. I plan to fly in and out on the same day because I’m too busy to leave New York for successive full weekends.
“Aside from you almost killing your best soldier, today went well,” Leo says, crossing an ankle over his knee.
“It did.” A smile graces my mouth. “He’s an amazing kid.”
“She’s a good mother,” he adds, and I nod.
“When will you tell Angelo and Natalia?”
“I’m going to spend Saturday in Greenwich. I’ll ask Natalia to come by.”
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “How is she?” he asks, avoiding eye contact.
“She’s good.”
He swings his gaze up, meeting my eyes.
“You would know if you talked to her more regularly.”
He runs a hand over his five o’clock shadow. “We haven’t had that kind of relationship since we were kids.”
“I’m sure she would love to see you. You’ll get your chance next month at Lawson’s charity event. All five bosses will be there, and Natalia will be with Gino.” My meeting with Gifoli went well, and it appears The Outfit has finally pulled their heads out of their asses and agreed to discuss the possibility of Chicago coming under The Commission’s rule. Gifoli suggested the New York bosses attend the gala ball, and a formal meeting is taking place in the same hotel the following morning. It’s an encouraging sign.
Leo scowls like he does anytime I mention Natalia’s husband. “Great.” He throws the rest of the scotch down his throat. “Something to look forward to.”
The next few weeks are extremely busy, and I have little time to get lost in my head. Three days after Gino Accardi’s visit to Tampa, the Russians attacked the Florida famiglia in a coordinated hit on their key bars, clubs, and restaurants, leaving a string of dead bodies and burned buildings in their wake. The only positive is Florida is firmly committed to The Commission now. They need our resources to rebuild and to provide protection.
The attack concerns me on a number of levels. It was well thought out and orchestrated, and there was no warning. They could have decimated the organization and taken the city, but they retreated, meaning it was only a first shot. They are planning something big, and we need to find out what.
Caltimore Holdings acquired a fifth top IT firm last week, and I attended daily meetings with the management team as we coordinated the transition, often running into the early hours of the morning. Add to that, we are preparing to break ground on one of the most prestigious luxury apartment blocks New York will ever see. Located on West 57th Street, overlooking Central Park, it will be the tallest building in the city, once completed, with one-hundred-and-eighty million-dollar condos, a five-star hotel, and a top department store on site.
I’m running on adrenaline, double espressos, and three hours of sleep a night, max. The only highlight of my weeks is my visits with Rowan and Sierra. I look forward to them like I haven’t looked forward to anything in years. Hence why I’m already on a plane to Chicago, and it’s only four twenty a.m. on Saturday morning. I have been alternating flight times and airports in an effort to hide my tracks. The last thing I want is the Russians discovering I’m making regular weekend trips to Chicago and figuring out the reason why.
I told Sierra I’d drop by at lunchtime, but I couldn’t sleep and the need to see her and my son was greater, so I roused my pilot from his bed, and Leo, Ciro, and I headed to the airport to board my private jet. Ciro is dozing in the seat behind me with his earplugs in. My best friend and underboss is currently snoring, quite obnoxiously, in the chair across from me, ensuring I’ll get no shut-eye before we touch down in Chicago.
Two hours later, I’m leaning my head against the window of the SUV, watching the sunrise as Alessandro drives. Ciro is beside me in the back. Leo is still snoring. From the front passenger seat this time. At least one of us managed to catch some decent sleep.
“You must have more patience than me, boss.” Alessandro looks at me through the mirror as he lifts one shoulder in Leo’s direction. “I’d have slit his throat on the plane.”
Ciro harrumphs.
“The thought did cross my mind.” I smile. “How have things been?” I ask even though it’s not necessary. Alessandro sends me daily summary reports by email.
“Everything is fine. There have been no threats or persons of interest nosing around.”
“What about that prick Lawson? Did he suspect anything when you and Frank attended dinner last week?”
Alessandro shakes his head. “He grilled us at the start, but it was the usual bullshit. He bought our story and didn’t even look sideways at us after that.”
Sierra told her family she hired the guys through a private security firm. I own such a firm—our protection services are more upscale than the shakedowns of the past—but I want nothing linking to New York, so I got Phillip to establish a new fake security company, and we sent official employee cards to Alessandro and Frank. Phillip is the best IT brain I have on my payroll, and I pay him way above market rate to secure his loyalty and his secrecy.
“Good.”
“The man is a fucking asshole.”
“He’s a piece of work, all right. He hated my guts when I first dated Saskia. Told me bluntly I wasn’t good enough for his daughter.”
I eventually won him over. I’m not sure how, because I didn’t give a fuck about her old man and things were never serious with her. If I wasn’t in such a mess over Mom’s death and being forced to leave college when I lost my scholarship, I doubt I would have ever dated anyone as high maintenance as Sierra’s older sister.
They might share similar physical characteristics, but personality-wise, they are like night and day. Sierra is warm where Saskia is cold. Sierra is forgiving while Saskia bears grudges like no one I have ever known. Sierra always sees the positives and she delights in the world around her, while Saskia has a bitter outlook and never a kind word to say about anything or anyone.
While Sierra wastes no opportunity to bust my balls, things have been amicable these past three weeks, and we’re settling into a comfortable routine. We spend time with our son together, and then she retreats, while she cooks us a meal, giving me quality time with Rowan alone.
I’m immensely rich, and I have grown to enjoy the finer things in life, but a simple meal shared in a small homey kitchen with my son and the woman I want as my wife has come to mean so much to me—more than anything my money can buy. Sierra has put her feelings aside so I can develop a relationship with my son in a comfortable environment. I’m under no illusions. I know she has done that for Rowan, but I appreciate it, and it only adds to my mounting respect for her.
If things were different, I could see myself falling head over heels for the mother of my child.
“Pull over,” I say when I spot a woman unloading supplies from the back of a small van.
Alessandro parks behind the florist’s van without question.