•PRINCETON, NEW JERSEY•
Adrian's POV
"Why is it any of our concern what the Russo family does?"
My eyes rolled so hard I could see my brain. "'Why is it'- ? You see them taking money from Mancini's accounts and see no issue?"
I tapped my finger against the butt of my cigarette into the ashtray and took another hit.
"All that school for help in a financial crisis and you don't even know when we're having a crisis! Make it make sense Andres!" I sneered.
"We aren't in a crisis! Neither Russo's or Mancini's records show a growth in territory. Neither of them are a threat!" My brother replied, slamming his hand on my father's coffee table with every word.
"Quiet, both of you", my father stood leaning against his desk. The IV tubing connecting his hand to the morphine pump snagged as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "Did I raise two men or two little girls? Andres is right. We have an arrangement with Vincent Russo and we agreed to peace with Giuseppe Mancini. If Andres says there is no threat, I'd rather not kick up dirt."
My face fell flat as I tried to hide the glowering expression itching to form on my face.
"Like kidnapping his daughter," Andres mumbled just loud and clear enough for my father to hear.
"Who's daughter?"
My father's dark eyes shot to me over the rim of his glasses.
Andres and I wordlessly exchanged glances as my father waved me over and tapped the vein on his neck.
"Come here Adrian, feel this."
I took a deep breath and plodded to the maple wood desk in front of me. Hesitantly, I reached up and felt his pulse. As the small area of his skin rose and fell under my fingers a sharp and heavy sting slammed into the side of my face, plowing me into the floor.
I grasped my burning cheek as my eyes locked with the man towering above me.
"Don't you ever again go above my head, boy. As long as that pulse still beats, you obey my orders! NOT the other way 'round!" He yelled, his words vibrating throughout the room.
As the words left his lips, his fingers wrapped around the solid gold hexagon paperweight and hurled it at Andres. It grazed his forehead as he bobbed instead of weaved.
"And you did it for him, you're just as guilty."
Glances passed between me and Andres as my father fell forward slightly, gripping the edge of his desk, trying to catch his breath.
His jaw clenched as we helped him to his chair and placed the pump button for morphine in his hand.
"Get out of here. Fix it. Both of you." He shooed us away.
I stood back, shoving my hand in my pocket for my lighter as Andres' attention tacked itself to our father for a moment longer before he followed my lead.
I waited in the hallway, smoothly blowing out another stream of smoke as my eyes bore holes into my brother's skull while he closed the door behind him.
"When are you gonna grow up?"
"When you grow a pair." I snapped and spun towards my bedroom.
I slammed the door behind me and put out my cigarette, then headed into the bathroom. I stood at the sandstone sink as my mind floated back to the makeshift interrogation of Mancini's daughter earlier today.
"Peace." I laughed.
A bitter illusion in this world. Right beside happiness.
I never got time to myself to think anymore, but peace is something I thought about often. It stays stuck like an unwavering stain.
My grandfather always told me that the strongest people are powerful enough to cause destruction with a puff of wind but wise enough to know how to aim the blow to hit only the intended target.
Mancini knew what would work not once, or twice, but three times. He murdered Terrance, my mother, then Julia. My father is weak to believe that type of betrayal can be glossed over with a piss-poor dinner party with no appetizers.
Peace?
No such thing.
Not as long I'm Don.
~~~~~~~~~
•OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA•
Matìas' POV
"Mancini is demanding territory in LA now, Matias."
"Well, that's out of the question. L.A's is Maniscalco jurisdiction. We can't just give it to him."
"Giuseppe is not asking! You know the alternative. We can't afford him telling Don Franco about the murders. Look, just hurry home. Your dad is gonna meet in an hour."
"Alright fine. I'll see you at the house, Seb."
I hung up as I started texting my son's tutor.
Sebastian was by far my favorite cousin of the family. He was younger than a lot of our men, but his father put a good head on his shoulders and the kid was a genius with finances. Since I spent most of my time in Jersey, Sebastian, along with my dad, headed the operations in California.
Wasted talent if you ask me. Okay, yes, our business put food on the table and Lamborghini keys in our hands, but he's got great potential to go far. He didn't deserve to be bogged down with this life, especially now.
We have control over Northern California and Southern Jersey, and yeah there's a cease fire between us, Maniscalco, and Mancini; but greed is a powerful monster.
Greed is dangerous.
Greed is destructive.
Greed is the reason why Giuseppe Mancini now had his foot on our family's necks and a third of our California territory under his control with a taste for more.
And we were stupid enough to let him take advantage of our mistakes for the sake of a tentative calm that can only last but so long.
My head hung over my phone screen as I neared the front counter of Severino's convenience store.
"Matías! What's up baby!" Noah, Severino's son, clasped his hand around mine and pulled me in for a hug, patting me on the back.
"It's been a minute, how's Jersey?" He asked as he grabbed my items and scanned them.
I shrugged, letting out something that could pass for a chuckle, "Same old, same old. How's here?"
"Ah, it ain't Jersey, but it's getting there. Giuseppe raised his percentage again."
My back straightened as my eyebrows furrowed, "How are you getting by?"
"We aren't."
Noah stretched the collar of his shirt revealing a row of stitches that ran diagonally from just below his collarbone to the middle of his chest.
I froze, my bones gripped by the fleshy-colored wound.
"When?"
"Two weeks, maybe less. I had got a concussion from the whole thing, so it's still fuzzy." His shirt snapped back into place as Noah handed me the bag.
"Mi dispiace tanto amico mio. We're gonna work this out. Don't worry."
"I'm not worried, not for me anyway. But my Pops, he ain't gonna be one of ya' casualties."
"He won't be. You have my word. What do I owe you for this stuff?" My eyes dropped to my wallet as his words pushed me back.
"Just fix it. Give us what you already promised—protection. Then we'll call it even." Noah blinked, his face holding a stoic expression.
My lids leveled and my face fell flat as I turned on my heel, words still hanging from my mind. Noah turned his attention back to the register then to the next customer. I sighed and marched out the door, smacking my hand against the glass. The frame of the door swung open and crashed into someone on the other side knocking them across the pavement.
Random items took to the air and scattered on the ground. As I reached down I noticed a box of super-absorbent tampons had landed right at my feet.
Not too far away from them was a breathtakingly beautiful brown-skinned woman sporting a vintage-style BROCKHAMPTON t-shirt and sweats. I grabbed what I assumed was her phone and the tampon box, putting my bag on my wrist and tucking the box under my arm as I extended my hand.
"That was my fault. I shouldn't have pushed the door open like that."
"I'm alright, really." She grinned and clasped her hand around mine as I pulled her to her feet.
A couple of people walking past stopped to gather a few more items on the ground. Her soft fingertips gripped my tattooed arm as she stumbled to gain her balance and I pressed my palm into her side. Her scent of açaí berry and honey wafted past my nose sending butterflies into my stomach.
"You need any help getting home?"
"No, I'm fine, thanks." Her glossy full lips rejected my offer.
"It's no trou-"
"Look I'm not interested. Okay?" She held her hands out, putting space between us.
"Look, I'm not trying to sleep with you, I'm just being polite."
Lies.
The woman was a golden vision with a smile that probably made flowers grow and the evening sun brought out a glow that nearly brought me to my knees.
"And I said I'm fine. Thanks for the bruised arm." She adjusted the bag in her arms, snatched her phone, and pushed past me.
I did a 180, my eyes glued to her peach-shaped butt as her body seemed to sway in slow motion.
A few remaining nosy eyes surveyed the situation as my skin crawled from their stares. Quickly I spun around back to my car as I fumbled with the key fob. I opened my car and sat down, finally realizing I still had her tampons tucked under my arm.
Wow.
My chest tightened as I turned the key in the ignition and headed to the estate. No one had been able to really catch my attention since my wife, Veronica, died. Maybe it was guilt keeping me closed off. I just couldn't allow myself to feel anything towards anyone else. But there was something about the pain encircling that woman's irises that seemed vulnerable, familiar—almost comforting.
I did just hit her with a door though.
My thoughts raced as my eyes drifted to the box of tampons sitting on the floor of my passenger seat. I at least had a reason to talk to her if I ever saw her again.
• • • •
I typed our passcode into the keypad of our large iron gate and drove through. As I got out and stepped inside, Veronica's bright face flashed across my mind.
Maybe it's not even time.
It's only been five years.
I jogged down the hall, finally reaching the conference room.
"...figured maybe we could increase their cut? Buy time." The voice of my other cousin, Emilio, echoed outside of the conference room door.
I'm not late.
My eyes swept over my watch.
6:58
Two minutes before the top of the hour. My father had started early.
I trapped my breath in my chest as I pushed open the heavy dark oak door and immediately met my father's icy stare.
"You are late." His rich Sicilian accent resonated throughout the room.
"I had two minutes. I'm on time."
"You are on time if you are early, you are late if you are on time."
All eyes ping-ponged between my father and I as I made my way to the seat next to him. I ran my hands through my wispy curls and heavily dropped into the chair.
"Hmph. Since you seem to have so much to say, Matias, what is your plan for Mancini's request?"
"I was thinking since we still have a ceasefire with Don Franco, that we can work out a deal for L.A. I heard he's been feeling more generous since he got sick."
"Astounding how malleable a man's heart can be the closer he is to death. What would we offer?" He stroked his chin.
"Money?" Emilio piped up.
"More than the 30% they are already taking? That don't benefit us, Emil." Sebastian massaged his temples and turned back to me.
"No, I mean what about a trade? San Francisco for L.A?"
Clamor erupted from the men the second I finished my sentence.
"San Fransico? You mean, where we live?" —Emilio's eyes bugged— "Are you crazy?"
"Silenzio." My father held his hand up and leaned back in his chair.
A heavy, eager silence blanketed the room as my father interlocked his finger and rested them against his chin.
"Zio, if we offered half of San Fran to—"
"He's going to want the half of territory that has our home-base within it." Emilio absentmindedly cut his brother off.
My father ran his hands over his tired features, "Franco won't care what he gets, he does not want trouble and we can not risk Mancini exposing the truth."
"But Uncle—" Emilio chirped.
"How quickly can you arrange a sit-down, Matías?" My father turned to me.
"Give me a week."
He nodded and pointed to Sebastian. "In the meantime, call Giuseppe and ask him how much his patience is worth. If all goes well, we will live to see another day of peace."
A/N: I want to give a huge shout-out to Babyailen76f , suckmybigenergy , and TanoraWise4 for the very first, likes, comments, and adds to their library. It really means a lot! Thank you lovelies!