Chapter 49
Maximo
The time for collecting information and waiting for answers has passed. I must protect my wife, my sister, and the rest of my family too. This morning I sent a message to my father, letting him know that Julianna’s safe for the time being. I also gave him a heads up about Nero.
After my exchange with him, I sent all the relevant information to each don.
The Casellas, Rizzos, and Valentes needed to be in the loop, so they may protect themselves in case Nero believes them guilty by association.
But I also warned them not to trust anyone else with this information. Nero has spies everywhere.
With that in mind, I decide to do some digging of my own.
Is Julius dead, or did he fake his own death?
So far, no one’s privy to the truth. But I’m done sitting around and talking about it.
Which is why, after this meeting with the council, I follow Lazaro.
If he leads me to Julius, great. If I find out he’s Nero’s spy, even better.
Of course if he’s innocent, then I owe him an apology.
I tail Lazaro for a while. He seems to be heading toward home. I suppose I could call myself paranoid, as he may be just as much of a target as the rest of us. But today I’m called to follow my hunch, no matter how small.
When he reaches his street, he drives right past his house. My interest piques. Adjusting my hold on the steering wheel, I follow him with more determination and pay extra attention to our surroundings.
Lazaro follows all the traffic rules like any good citizen. We head into an industrial area across the Hudson, where he drives into a construction site, and disappears into a concrete tunnel. Instead of following him inside, I pull over and park away from the entrance.
Gravel crunches beneath my soles. I draw my gun, keeping it low as I venture into the dimly lit tunnel.
I don’t hear any engines running, so Lazaro must have cut his, he could be anywhere in here.
As I search for him, my gaze zeroes in on the two trucks parked up ahead and off to one side.
They look all too familiar—like they belong to me.
I check them out for a moment, keeping my awareness cast far and wide. Motherfucker. Both of these trucks were stolen while transporting counterfeit goods. Lazaro himself called to tell me about these disappearing. Seems like he knows right where they’ve been all this time.
Footsteps alert me to someone coming, and I hide around the side of one truck. Two men stop at the back of the other truck and open the rolling door.
“Let’s get this one unloaded,” Lazaro says to the other man. “Split it equally. We have two buyers.”
“Yes, sir.”
He’s been busy. If he stole these, then I can only assume he’s also responsible for everything else. He’s a fucking traitor.
That brief exchange is all I needed to hear. I step out of the shadows with my gun raised. Without any further warning, I shoot the guy standing beside Lazaro. He never sees it coming.
My underboss, who I fucking trusted, spins around to face me. He holds up his hands. “This isn’t what it looks like, boss.”
“Bull shit,” I snarl. “You’ve been playing me since I got here, haven’t you?”
“I’d never do something like that, Pontrelli. Let me explain.”
I smack him with the side of my gun hard enough to knock him out cold. Bending down, I disarm him before calling my men and giving them our location. Lazaro has a lot of fucking explaining to do, but not here. I glance around. I want to question him somewhere more secure.
As soon as I step into the room, one of my soldiers removes the burlap hood from Lazaro’s head. It’s time for him to wake the fuck up. I’m pleased to see that his usual calm demeanor’s gone.
“What the—?”
“All I want are answers to my questions.” I stop a couple of feet in front of him. He’s chained hand and foot to a chair that’s bolted to the floor. He’s not going anywhere, ever, unless he has some damn good excuses.
“Don Pontrelli, what’s this all about? You can’t do this to me.” His bewildered gaze flits around the room at the four other men standing watch. Soldiers. Witnesses.
“Tell me the truth and I might let you live. Lie to me and I will have to kill you, and I’ll be sure to take my time. Capire?”
His wide eyes land on me. He nods. “Capisco.”
“Buono. Do you know a man named Nero?”
He hesitates. “Yes. Nero Pagalia. He runs bets in Jersey. What does he have to do with anything?”
“Not that Nero,” I grind out. “I’m asking about Nero Mosetti.”
“Never heard of him.”
I scrutinize him. He’s more relaxed now. Calm, as if he’s confident I’ll give him a quick death once this is all over.
I dive deeper. “You don’t work for Nero Mosetti? You’re not stealing my goods to sell to him?”
“Like I said, never heard of him.”
“Then why the fuck did you steal my cargo?”
He hesitates for a long moment before answering with a shrug. “Just wanted to make some extra cash on the side.”
We both know that’s bullshit.
“Did you have anything to do with Julius’s death?” My question drops like a weight between us.
“Yes.”
I’m slightly taken off guard by his honest response. Maybe this won’t be too painful for either of us after all. At least not until the end when Lazaro’s executed for his crimes.
“How were you involved?”
He grins, smug as fuck. “I slit his throat.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because he was too smart for his own good. He found me out. He wanted in on the pie, and thought he could blackmail me. So I had to kill him. He was a piece of shit anyway.”
“What did he find out about you? You mean the stolen merchandise?” Or does he mean something else?
“That and other things,” he answers vaguely. He’s testing my damn patience.
“What else,” I demand.
He stares me right in the eyes. “That I’ve been disloyal to my don.”
“I see. Which don is that? Were you disloyal to Don Lorenzo or Don Davide?”
“Both.”
“Why?”
“Because Don Lorenzo was a cruel man. He even beat his wife and daughters. No one liked him. He didn’t deserve to sit on his throne of power.”
“And Don Davide?” I keep my tone neutral, conversational. How far back does his corruption go?
His lips twist in a sneer. “He was a fool. Too weak to be don.”
I lean in, unblinking. “And how about me, Lazaro? What is my fatal flaw?”
“Arrogance and pride.” He spits at my feet. “Julius was going to ruin all my plans for you, so he had to go.”
I grind my teeth. Elena was right about the both of them. Lazaro and Julius were never to be trusted.
“So you confess that you’re behind the attempts on my life? The missing shipments, obviously. How about attacking the other dons’ family members?”
He grunts. “Yeah. But you’ll never guess at the full scope of it. You don’t have the capacity, or the vision.”
“What do you mean? What was your big plan? Kill me and then what?” I press.
Lazaro glances away, lips pressed into a thin line.
“Tell me,” I demand. “You know you want to, so spit it out.”
He’s already confessed to murder and betrayal, so why clam up now? Why the long pauses?
His restraints rattle as he shifts in the metal chair. “I’m tired of not being at the very top of this food chain. I fucking deserve to be don. Not just a don, but the don. The one and only.”
He’s fucking insane. That’s what this is all about? Greed?
“Just how were you going to become the one and only don?” No one would ever allow that to happen.
“I got nothing to lose by telling you now.” He shrugs.
“First, I was going to take out all the sons: Enzo Casella, Falco and Gabriele Rizzo. Marcus, Luca, and Aurelio Valente. You, and probably your two brothers. Without heirs, the families would soon collapse. Then I was going to marry Francesca Casella. She’d make the perfect wife. ”
That ambitious of a plan would require a lot of help. His sons must be in on this too. He’d need capos and soldiers. Where is he getting his muscle? It can only be from among our own ranks.
Damn it. Grabbing my phone, I grunt when I realize there’s no service down here. “When I’m back, we’ll finish this conversation.”
Lazaro laughs. “Whatever you say, Pontrelli.” His easy demeanor and loose tongue tightens my chest. This almost feels like… a distraction. A decoy. But from what?
“Keep him here,” I order. “I’ll be back to deal with him later.”
Taking the stairs two at a time, I pull up Elena’s number. I need to warn her not to trust anyone right now, but especially Niccolò and Dario Achilli.
Her phone rings.
And rings.
Why isn’t she answering?