Taking The Mantle

Chapter 21

Warning: violence

"Hey," Rocco says as I slide into the backseat of the SUV, "you ready?"

"Not really," I shrug in response.

He turns around to look at me with furrowed brows, "you've got this, sir."

"We've talked about this, Rocco," I scold.

"Sorry," he mutters as he turns back around. He takes off from the compound, a few more cars following behind us.

I'm pretty sure we're meeting because of the Sinaloa's. Once I found the blueprints in that warehouse, I had men check it out. Each of those locations had been attacked. For some reason, it seems like the Sinaloa's are coming for all of us not just the DiSilva family.

We can handle them easily. We have more men, more guns, and more connections. But the other two families aren't as strong as we are. They could be destroyed. And if those empires fall, we will look weak.

"Have you seen Antonio?" Rocco asks.

He makes brief eye contact with me in the rear view mirror and I furrow my brow, "not since I fought him. Why?"

"I haven't seen him either," he replies, "he missed training this morning too."

"He's probably nursing his ego," I shrug, "did you ask any of the maids?"

"Yeah," he says, "one of them said he left late the same night you guys fought."

"He's an adult," I remind him, "he doesn't need us babysitting him. If he isn't at the gala tomorrow, I'll start looking into it."

"Alright," Rocco nods once.

He pulls the car to a stop in front of the church and I take a deep breath. I haven't seen these men since I was a teenager. I was desperately trying to prove myself back then. But I don't need to prove anything to those men.

I'm the Don of fucking Dons.

Rocco opens the door and I step out. Men pace around the outside of the building silently. I recognize many as my men but the others belong to the other families. I button my jacket and start for the entrance.

"I'm pretty sure we're here to discuss the Sinaloa's," I say quietly as we walk, "keep your cards close to your chest. We'll offer information and support once they tell us everything they know."

"Yes, sir," Rocco says.

"Be careful," I add, "they're going to try to mess with you. Don't lose your temper and make sure you hold your tongue."

"Understood," he says simply.

Rocco steps in front of me to open the grand door and I stride inside. The chapel is bustling with people. A circular table has been brought to the front of the room.

Don Galvanize is already seated there with a glass of wine in his hand. A few of his men stand beside him, engaged in an animated conversation.

"Don Marino," Galvanize says as he stands.

"Don Galvanize," I greet him, extending my hand.

We shake hands and I take my seat at the table. He's aged since I last saw him, and poorly. He's nearly bald but has his hair combed over carefully in an attempt to hide it. Wrinkles and sun spots decorate his face and he wears wire rimmed glasses.

"It's been a long time, boy," he says with a smile.

"It has," I agree, "you called the meeting, what's going on."

"Patience," he scolds and my jaw ticks, "Don Franchesci isn't here yet. Plus, I want to hear more about how you came to be in this position."

"Family matters stay in the family," I retort.