“This cannot go on much longer, piccolina. He is ruining us, and everyone sees it. If not you, someone will come from below to challenge him. Not a Sacco.”
“But a man. Are you sure I have the backing of enough capos, Zio? I don’t have Bruno or Fabi. That’s all the strong men.” Bruno and Fabio were closest to Tommy; they’d been friends from boyhood. Bruno was smart and had become a lawyer. He was Tommy’s consigliere. Fabio had come up through the ranks as an enforcer and was the capo with the most pull and highest earnings. Fabio made most of the Saccos’ dark money, and Bruno protected it.
Actually, Giada protected it as much as anyone. Her investments cleaned it and made it worthwhile. And she made all their straight money.
“If their men follow them.”
“You think they won’t?”
“I think if Nick Pagano throws to you, you might have almost every man in our family on your side. Especially if he handles his Ukrainian trouble. Men are saying he rose from the dead, you know.”
She drank more bitter coffee. “I’ve heard that. But he’s … perdonami, Zio—he’s old. The men have shown no respect for experience and wisdom. They didn’t bat an eye when Tommy pushed you out.” Enzo had been her father’s consigliere from the very start. It was normal for a new don to establish his own inner circle, but Tommy had stripped Enzo of his title and set him entirely aside, forcing him to retire. He’d called him old and used up.
But Tommy still always called their uncle when he had trouble. Because he didn’t have the balls to call Giada himself—or to handle his own shit.
Enzo swirled creamer through his coffee, letting the spoon sing against the side of the mug. “It’s more than wisdom Nick offers. It’s power. If he takes this bratva down, they will say he is invincible. After that, I would be surprised to see any New England family resist his will. You have his word?”
“I do. The Paganos stand with me when I claim a seat at the table, and my Saccos stand with them when he’s ready to make his half-blood nephew.” At her meet with Nick, they’d planned to use Vio Marconi’s daughter’s wedding next month to study the players and set the board for Giada’s move.
Enzo chuckled. “We’re about to stir the pot, piccolina.”
To her uncle, Giada could admit a few doubts. “If this all blows up in our faces …”
Enzo chuckled. “Oh, it will. Change never comes without pain. With the right push, New England will fall in line. Probably New York, too. But Sicily? They will not like what you and Pagano intend. They will see it as the children rebelling against the grandfather—and that is what it is. They will try to force their will. But you are strong, Giada. Stronger than Tommy by a long shot. Stronger than Gabi was, even. You’ll be standing when the fight is won. You’re smart, and you look ahead, not behind. You see the limits of tradition. You understand the troubles when things are done a way because they’ve always been done that way, without thought to what may come. Tradition is for Christmas. Change is life.”
~oOo~
Not counting her quick run-in after the diner, where she’d showered and dressed for work and found a note from Fallon thanking her for a wonderful time and a lovely rest, and asking her to call, Giada didn’t get back to her apartment until nearly ten o’clock that night.
She opened a bottle of Sangiovese and poured herself a full glass, then kicked off her pumps and stood at the front windows, looking out over downtown Boston, and the river snaking around its border.
Exhausted as she was, she knew sleep would elude her for hours. The disgust of that morning, surrounded by her brother’s latest, worst, abomination, stuck like old gum on her soul. There was absolutely no way Emily would have meant to get pregnant without Tommy’s permission. It was an accident, Giada was sure.
She was also sure Emily would have ended the pregnancy if Tommy had only asked. He would say abortion was wrong, and maybe that was what had set him off, a sense of being trapped by a mistake he would have blamed on Emily alone—but look what he’d done. He’d ended the pregnancy and the mother, both.
Swallowing down the whole glass, Giada squeezed her eyes shut and tried to crush the image of that bathroom into oblivion.
What would she do with her brother, when she made her move? Could she kill him?
She would have to, wouldn’t she? Was there any possible way he’d step aside if she had the backing to push him in that direction?
Of course not. She was a woman. In his mind, there was no way at all she would deserve the seat.
She would have to kill her brother. And he certainly deserved to die.
Could she do it?
Giada had cleaned up after her brother’s violence all her adult life. Even while their father lived, Tommy had come to her most of the time. But she had never hurt anyone herself.
Her heart began to thump, and she went back to the kitchen, intending to refill her glass.
But she didn’t want a red wine hangover.
No, she had a better idea. More distraction, more expense of energy, better hope for good sleep, and a clear head in the morning.
She picked up her phone and scrolled through her texts. Finding the convo she wanted, she sent a new message.
Hey. Busy tonight?
An answer came back in seconds.
I’m not, actually. Had a cancellation.
I’ve been pouting about it with some Rocky Road.
You don’t usually play on school nights. You okay?
Yeah. Just have some energy to burn.
Just call me Cardio.
You want me over now?
Yep.
Giada let that word sit for a second without sending. Then she added to it and sent it.
Yep. Bring a friend. Full night.
Mercy! You do have energy to burn.
I need a couple extra minutes,
but I can work that out.
A friend like me, or a friend like you?
Like you. Full-service package.
We’ll be there in 30, hot mama.
Tristan ended that text with two eggplants and several sweat emojis.
Giada went back to her bedroom to get ready for her guests.
~ 5 ~
Angie, Tony, and Trey arrived in Quiet Cove near noon, two days after they finished their job in Ukraine. They’d spent one night back in Berlin, enough to enjoy a bit of nightlife and burn off some steam, and then they’d hopped a commercial flight back to the States.
At the airport, Jake, a longstanding Pagano enforcer, picked them all up. Angie had him drop the kids off at their respective homes, instructing them to be at the office in two hours. Then he had Jake take him straight to the office. He didn’t have a woman to return to and ease her worries, and he wanted to speak with Nick and Donnie on his own first.
They were waiting for him in Nick’s office. According to Nick’s custom, the door was ajar, which meant ‘knock and lean in,’ so he did.
“Hi, don.”
“Angie!” Nick stood up from his desk and came to the door. He was smiling subtly. Unless he was with his wife and children, Nick rarely made an expression so broad it could be called a grin, but Angie knew him well. He saw the deep pleasure and affection on the don’s face.