Chapter 23
MARCO
The setup went off without a hitch.
Sergio Bruno sent all his best men to do the job, completely unaware that he was being fucked with—and so arrogant about the whole thing that he didn’t even have backup nearby to cover his guys in case things went south. You could say he did not play his hand well.
As expected.
On our side, Armani had assembled a crack shot team of gunmen with nothing to lose and who weren’t afraid to face a few bullets for a handsome payoff.
Dante’s outreach to some of the other mafia families had paid off as well, and a number of the Brunos’ longtime enemies had sent their own men to join in on the fun.
We ended up with so many people in our de facto army that Dante and I didn’t have to participate in the shootout.
Armani, of course, ran straight into the center of the fight.
He came out a bloodied but triumphant mess while Dante and I monitored events from inside a bulletproof SUV.
We had armed guards lining the rooftops, dressed in black and lying in wait when Sergio and his goons rolled up.
Meanwhile, to make things look realistic, we had a flatbed truck carrying a huge steel shipping container parked at the loading dock of our warehouse, as if we were really in the process of unloading millions of dollars’ worth of firearms. Uncle Bruno didn’t bother to assess the surroundings.
He took everything at face value, confident in the intel he’d gleaned from Karina’s bugged ring, probably blinded by the dollar signs in his eyes.
When he and his men filtered out of their vehicles and made a beeline for the building, I felt like I was watching lambs line up for slaughter. It was almost too easy.
Presumably, that’s what they were thinking, too. They’d just waltz in, catch us unawares, and blow us all away. Then they’d steal our cargo and get rich selling it off to the highest bidder. Like taking candy from a baby.
But before the Brunos could even think about kicking down any doors, our forces began raining down fire from above while a secondary team poured out of the rear warehouse exits, shooting at Bruno’s men as they attempted to enter the building.
It was a beautifully synchronized clusterfuck. And the last thing the Brunos expected.
Armani had initially instructed our team to take out anyone and everyone.
But then he changed his mind right before go time and instructed our guards to wound if they could, kill if they had to.
I’m not sure what gave him a change of heart.
Ultimately, Bruno did lose several men. Many more had been wounded, and some were arrested.
We didn’t eradicate the Brunos today, but we definitely did enough damage that it will take them some time to regroup.
The police who’d been tipped off arrived just as our men were leaving the scene.
The police never saw us, but Bruno wasn’t as lucky.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he was spending his evening behind bars tonight.
Of course, it won’t stay that way. He has too many connections and too many people in high positions that owe him favors. He won’t stay in jail for long.
Now that we’re back home, Armani has cracked open a bottle of fifty-year-old scotch to celebrate.
He downs his first shot while still wearing his blood-spattered clothes, a cocky grin on his face.
I understand why he’s in a celebratory mood, but Dante and I are a little more subdued.
This is a solid win for us, and it feels damn good, but it’s only a short-term fix.
Soon enough, Sergio will regroup, replan, and come after us from a new angle.
We’ve thrown gasoline on the fire.
He will retaliate. I know this with 100% certainty. I’m so tired of this game and I’m at the point where I’ll do almost anything to make it stop.
I let out a sigh and lean back in my cushy leather chair.
We’ve been holed up here in the library since we returned from the ambush.
Dante is standing by the windows, staring blankly into the blue dark of pre-dawn.
Armani has his feet up on an antique side table, lazily swirling his tumbler in one hand.
I’m contemplating having a second drink.
I need one, considering the next step I’m going to take.
My brothers would kill me if they knew what I was planning.
But I can’t sit here and wait around for Sergio Bruno’s next move.
It feels like there’s a sword perpetually hanging over my head.
My brain can never settle. I’m always looking over my shoulder.
Worrying about my wife, my family, my fucking cars.
Living in fear isn’t something I’m going to settle for anymore.
I’m about to play a very dangerous game of my own.
Suddenly, I can’t stand to spend one more second here with my brothers. I need to be with my wife. Rising from the chair, I toss back the last warm dregs of my drink and set the glass down on the table.
“It’s late. Or early, actually. Either way—Armani, you’re disgusting. Go take a damn shower. I’ll see you boys later.”
I head to my room on the far side of the house.
It’s after 4 a.m. Karina had been extremely anxious about the raid, understandably.
I’d promised her that I would stay out of the thick of it and I’m glad I kept that promise.
A part of me yearned to be taking down the Brunos with Armani, yet a bigger part of me was glad to be watching things unfold in the back of the SUV with Dante.
I’ve had enough of shootouts, and blood, and wounds, and violence.
All I want to do is climb in bed next to my wife and pull her close to me.
To my surprise, she’s sound asleep as I tiptoe into the bedroom.
I expected her to be awake, waiting for me.
I’m about to go shower when I notice an orange prescription bottle on the nightstand.
It’s zolpidem—a.k.a. Ambien. The label has Frankie’s name on it.
She must have given Karina these sleeping pills so she wouldn’t be up all night worrying herself sick.
A wave of guilt washes over me. I did this to my wife. Things can’t go on like this. Our life together can’t go on like this. Something has to give. It only makes me even more resolute about following through with my plan.
I take a quick shower and slip under the sheets, curling my body around Karina’s and gently tucking my arm over her waist. I’m still pumped with adrenaline. Somehow, I manage to fall asleep just as the room begins to lighten.
She barely moves when I drag myself out of bed a few hours later, a few minutes before nine. Her breathing is steady and even, and I wonder how long the sleeping pills are going to keep her under. Not wanting to wake her, I quickly get dressed and leave the bedroom.
Since I don’t want to deal with any questions or confrontations, I take one of the back doors out of the house.
Hopefully my brothers are sleeping in after the late night we had at the warehouse, but I can’t take the risk of being seen or stopped.
Slipping the keys from my pocket, I go to the garage and pull out in my black Jeep.
I have a list in my head of people I need to visit this morning.
People who are essential for putting my plan into action.
And if that goes well, I have a very important phone call to make…
to the one person I’d be happy to never see again.
The late morning sun is just beginning to warm the air as I drive off the Bellanti property.
Needing some time to get myself together, I make my way to the best drive-thru coffee shop in Napa and order a breakfast burrito and a large dark roast coffee, strong and black.
Then I sit in the parking lot for a while, mulling over what I’m about to do.
I’m going rogue. Going against my brothers, gambling the entire Bellanti legacy, in the hope of making pacts that could pull us out of this war with the Brunos for good. It could blow up in my face and cost my family more than we'll ever be able to recover.
But it’s the only way.
Strengthened by the coffee, the killer hot salsa on my burrito, and the growing warmth of the sun, I finally pull back onto the road and get to work.
My first stop is at the home of one of my father’s old friends—Leo Candreva.
A man who terrified me when I was younger, maybe even more than my own father had.
He’d been quiet since my father’s death, not really extending his loyalty to my family the way that he had for years under my father’s rule.
My brothers and I have been happy to let him do his own thing thus far.
Now? It’s time for me to find out which side the guy is on.
“Marco fucking Bellanti,” he says after he opens his front door, holstering his gun when he sees me raise both my hands to show that I’m unarmed. “Will wonders never cease. What the fuck you creeping up on me for, patatino? Come inside.”
With that, he lets out a laugh and claps me on the back so hard that I almost get launched right off the porch. It would be an understatement to say that he’s surprised to see me. He’s even more surprised when I make him a deal he can’t refuse.
This is the bargain: I’m going to race against Pietro Manzo tomorrow. I know the odds are stacked against me because of my accident, but that’s exactly why the payout is going to be so high when I win.
And when I do win, Candreva vows to side with the Bellanti family in all things and condemn the Brunos. Forevermore.
“And if you lose?” he asks dubiously, narrowing his eyes over his espresso.
“If I lose, you get a share of the Bellanti winery. But I won’t lose.”
For a second, the man just stares at me.
He’s got a good poker face, but I know he’s in shock.
Our winery is a private company, and we’ve never given shares to anyone outside the immediate family.
I’m risking my family’s financial future, but more than that, our very legacy.
Our history. And also the livelihood of every future Bellanti, including Dante’s daughter.
I’ve never in my life gambled anything even remotely close to the value of the Bellanti empire.
At first, Candreva just laughs at me. But then, as I had hoped, he agrees—because who could say no to the chance at having a stake in the best winery in Napa? It doesn’t matter that he thinks I’m foolish, that he’s convinced I’m going to lose the race. All I need is his handshake.
Everyone I approach after him feels the same about the deal I’m offering. They believe in my family. They’d be happy to support us against the Brunos. But they also know my loss in the race would mean a small fortune for them, so in the end, they’re happy to agree to my terms.
By late afternoon, I’ve visited all of my father’s old contacts and then made my way through the acquaintances I’ve collected on my own.
I visit the old timers in person and stick to calls for the newer generation and the families outside the county.
By the time I’m done, I have promises from some of the most influential crime families in the Pacific Northwest to stand beside my brothers and me if I win the race against Pietro.
I feel like I’m living in an alternate reality by the time I’m done.
After I make my final phone call, I drive to a bluff overlooking the Napa River and just sit and stare at the flowing water.
Acid burns in my gut and creeps up my throat.
I might have just made the biggest mistake of my life, of all our lives… but there’s no taking it back now.
The only way out is through, as they say.
My brothers can never know about the bets I’ve made until the race is over and I come out victorious. If they find out before I get behind that wheel, they will absolutely murder me. But they won’t find out. And I will win that race. I just have one more bet to make.
Staring blankly at the water, I pull out my cell and dial Pietro. To my surprise, the fucker answers on the second ring.
“I know who this is,” he says by way of greeting. He almost sounds pleased.
“How’d you like to make a little wager on the race tomorrow, Manzo?” I say, my voice cool. “If I win, you drop out of the circuit forever. Your career behind the wheel is done.”
There’s a beat of silence, followed by a scoff. “The hell you talking about, Bellanti? You aren’t racing. What, is your head injury not quite healed?”
I blink. The sun is throwing diamonds across the water.
“If I lose,” I go on, “I’ll drop out. I’ll never race again. The circuit is yours. Yes or no.”
He doesn’t immediately answer, which tells me he thinks there’s a chance I might win.
“Yes,” he says.
The connection goes dead.
There. It’s done. I’ve just gambled everything that’s precious to me and my family.
But I’m not ready to go home now and put on a happy face for the people I love. Not yet. I’m going to sit here and watch the sun dance on the water for a while.
Because I have to admit…deep down, I’m terrified of what could happen.