Chapter 15 #2
I know he’s referring to the married couples’ households.
We always had an open-door policy to each other’s homes.
If Pablo’s parents or my parents were home, we’d give them a courtesy text or call since both couples are still as frisky—shall we say—as they were when they married.
No one wants to walk in on a couple’s intimate moments, so that policy now applies to Tío Enrique and Tía Elle, along with my cousins and their wives.
Javier and Madeline got married two months ago, and Pablo and Florencia got married two days before I went to Chicago.
Nobody wants to walk in on either of those newlyweds.
Jorge and Anneliese picked out a wedding date in two months.
Nobody wants to intrude on the new couple either.
Tres J’s understand Vita and I are now like the other couples in our family.
“You’ve always been the biggest thrill seeker of all of us. Tía Catalina’s always worried that one of these days your lack of fear will get you killed. Are you trying to prove her right?”
I grit my teeth as I stare at Jorge. His eyes widen as he realizes he didn’t hit just a nerve but an entire bundle. I don’t appreciate his implied jest that Vita might still try to kill me, and that I’m putting my life in her hands for a quick fuck. He throws his hands up and shakes his head.
“I didn’t realize, Primo.”
“Well, now you all know.”
Joaquin tries to keep the peace when he leans forward. “I’m certain Pablo would’ve told us if Madeline hadn’t knocked him out before pulling out the bullet. Then Florencia insisted we all leave him alone and let him rest.”
I offer them a jerky nod. Silence hangs among us for a few seconds before Jorge launches into why they came besides to check on me. He’s our accountant and best understands the programs the Four Families use for our selective bookkeeping.
“We know the Kutsenkos and O’Rourkes are funneling more money into Italy to keep this war going. They’re keeping it on another continent so none of their hands get dirty and the feds don’t notice how much money we’re talking.”
The Kutsenkos support the Camorra and ’Ndrangheta, while the O’Rourkes support the Mala del Brenta and the Cosa Nostra. Joaquin’s our head intelligence gatherer, so he’ll have found the data and passed it along to Jorge to interpret.
“So far, about twenty million dollars a side.”
I shoot them a lopsided grin. “That’s the going rate for me, apparently.”
“What?”
Javier’s clearly not interested in me changing the subject. I suspect he wants to get home to Madeline, so he can have a proper dinner rather than what good manners will insist I offer them.
“That’s the price on my head. Twenty-million dollars. An extra ten for collateral damage.”
Joaquin shoots me an expression of pure disgust. “An extra ten-million-dollars just because you’re the pretty one in the family?”
“What can I say? I’m a total package. Brains and beauty.”
That earns me a snort from all three of them.
We all know it’s something personal with whoever took out the hit, but it’s also because I’m the chief strategist in our family.
Taking out Pablo, who’s the heir, would cause too much of a stir.
Tres J’s are our head enforcers and all-around shit stirrers, but they each have their own roles.
In addition to Jorge being an accountant and Joaquin being our intel analyst, Javier’s our attorney.
Neither Tío Enrique nor Tío Luis can practice anymore.
They’ll help when they have time behind the scenes.
They’ll draft briefs and do research if Javier’s particularly busy.
But my cousin handles all the litigation and is the forward face for most contract negotiations.
Jorge brings us back to where we were. “The Mancinellis hit the Kutsenkos, wiping out their entire construction project, and they’re trying to make it look like we did it.
I’ll give Gabriele and Matteo credit where credit is due.
They did a pretty fucking good job fucking us over.
They hired a bunch of Puerto Ricans to do the job and set them up to take the fall.
The Kutsenkos got at least two of them. We know the bratva recognizes these guys are Puerto Rican, not Colombian, but we suspect the Mancinellis have these men’s families.
So, none of them will admit who hired them. Instead, they’re claiming it’s us.”
I scowl. “Wonderful. Just what we need. I bet Maks is extra pissed that this is a distraction from what’s happening in Italy. Any insight into their plans to hit us back?”
Joaquin shakes his head. “Not yet. It’s annoyingly quiet on their end. There’s no chatter going on, so they’re still in the planning stage. We know that means they’re only meeting in their own homes.”
Despite all our wealth, no one in the Four Families keeps a staff at their home.
We don’t even have housekeepers. Partly, it’s for privacy and security.
The other part is all of us grew up with an expectation that no amount of wealth means we’re entitled to be lazy.
Whether it’s doing dishes or scrubbing toilets, no one is above any job or chore.
The only time we might bring someone in is if a couple hosts a large family gathering.
They might have help catering or cleaning up afterwards.
But even then, it’s not like anyone leaves a mess in someone else’s home.
Bachelors might have somebody come in if they’ve been away on an extended trip, but only when we’re in the home.
No one in the Four Families will trust strangers alone in their house.
“So, what do we do, Alejo?” Javier brings my attention back to the present.
“We need to call tío and Pablo if he’s well enough.”
I pull out my phone and put the call on speaker.
I greet Tío Enrique and ask him to hold on a moment while I try to get Pablo on the line too.
He sounds groggy but with it enough to join the conversation.
Tres J’s shares what we just talked about.
As they fill in our relatives, I consider our best course of action.
“Pablo, reach out to the Carosis and offer the Mala del Brenta help. With everything that happened to Jorge and Anneliese, none of Tres J’s can do it. With a hit on me, I can’t either.”
Tío Enrique’s voice comes through the speaker. “Why can’t you do it?”
This is the part I’m not looking forward to explaining.
“The mercenary is Vittoria Trevisan.”
There’s an unnerving silence that greets my declaration. Everyone recognizes the last name as the one belonging to the Mala del Brenta consigliere. I inhale a deep breath before continuing.
“She’s his daughter, so you can see why it can’t be me. She doesn’t think her father knows about this job. Not who hired her nor who her current mark is.”
“You truly believe that.”
Tío Enrique’s skepticism fills the silence. My gaze darts from one cousin to another before I look down at the phone in my hand.
“Yes. I know why Vittoria became a mercenary. I’m confident she doesn’t share her employer’s names with her family or who her targets are.
She separates work from family just like we do.
If Pablo reaches out to Piero, they’re going to want to know why we’re making the offer.
Pablo, you can tell Piero it’s our way of showing the O’Rourkes our appreciation for such a good time at the charity gala. ”
We all know that’s a weak excuse, but it will do since Piero won’t expect us to be more forthcoming. He’ll probably do some research to find out why, but there are limitations to his reach.
Pablo’s voice is strained when he speaks, but we can still hear him. “What do we offer the Mala?”
“Tell them we want to block the Kutsenkos’ expansion goals into Spain. That only native Spanish speakers are welcome. Let him know Jorge already warned Maks to stay out, and now we’re following through on that promise. Find out how much Pasha offered them and give them more.”
Pasha Kutsenko’s a cousin of the four brothers who lead the Ivankov branch. He’s their family’s accountant for all their questionable dealings. His wife, Sumiko, now handles all their legit accounting.
When there are big bribes to be paid, each of the Four Families relies on their accountant to make it happen. It’s not like anyone isn’t well versed in how much they can spend or where the money’s going. But the accountants know best when to adjust offers and counteroffers.
Tío Enrique asks the next obvious question. “And when they ask what we want in return?”
“Tell them we want contact with Italy’s best female mercenary. Tell them we have a job we want done against the Sacra Corona Unita.”
United Sacred Crown—they’re one of the largest organized crime groups in Italy. While the Cosa Nostra claim they’re the only organization who deserve the name Mafia, it’s not given to any Italian syndicate.
My tío sounds unconvinced when he responds. “The Sacra Corona Unita have next to nothing to do with any of us. Why would we target them?”
“Because they’re not involved in this war. They think they can fly under the radar for everything, but they can’t. It’s time they know they’re being watched just like anyone else. It’ll be a good reminder for them that nobody’s business is as private as they think.”
Javier’s skepticism comes through in his next question. “Do you really want to draw them in?”
“Not particularly. If we have to—to keep this excuse going—then we can. But it’s something to tell Piero.”
“All right, when do you want me to make the call?”
“Not right now, Pablo. You sound like shit. Whenever you’re feeling better will be soon enough.”
“Fine. Give me until tomorrow, then I’ll do it. Do you want to be on the call too?”
“Possibly. We’ll see what’s going on.”
Tío Enrique asks what I don’t want to answer quite yet because I’m not ready to share how things stand.
“And what if he names Vittoria?”