Prologue
Renzo
Our first month back in Buffalo, NY
It doesn’t matter. This plan is brilliant.
“She’s passed out,” Gino says – in Italian, or some variation of the Italian language that I can mostly understand.
“Once we take care of this problem, dad will understand that we didn’t just waste our money on booze and strip clubs in Sicily.”
“Isn’t that exactly what we did?”
“Shut up, Gino.”
I bought an apartment close to the harbor with half the money Nonno gave me for my twenty-first birthday. The harbor has to be one of the easiest places to dump a body in all of New York State and none of the bodies I’ve put in the harbor have ever been found.
The goal tonight is simple – punish Luigi for his transgression against our family’s honor by cutting the baby out of his slut’s womb and torturing her to death on video before dumping her corpse into the harbor.
Or something like that. My private parking spot at the harbor apartment allows me to back the 4Runner right up to the front door.
You would have to be on my property to see us transporting our ‘cargo’ to the front door.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Gino asks with his typical lacking confidence.
“Shut up before you wake her up.”
He stays quiet long enough for us to trap this slightly larger woman in my guest bedroom and lock the door. If she dares to climb out the window, she’ll come face to face with my pair of uncut Cane Corsos, each about 150 lbs. It won’t take her long to realize her mistake.
Once we’re alone, I can reassess the plan with Gino. He doesn’t seem happy.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I have to admit that I didn’t come up with the plan entirely on my own. I know my father would prefer Delphine dead.
“Yes. He approached us with an offer, and everyone wins if we go through with this…”
He might take some convincing, but I maintain the belief that Gino will eventually see some sense.
How much could Luigi care about one woman?
“Listen, Gino. We’re not just solving a family problem, we’re helping prevent future attacks. Think about how pissed dad was when he found out her skin color… Do you really think he would be angry with us?”
Gino’s eyes meet mine and he holds onto his typical skepticism. If he would take more bold actions in his life, perhaps he would have the riches or the women that he wants so badly. Regardless of his illogic, Gino argues.
“That doesn’t mean he wanted her dead,” Gino says. “He just wants to scare Luigi, right? We can’t actually kill her. We just need footage of us knocking her around a bit.”
My twin brother can be so slow sometimes.
“She won’t die.” I reassure him with a platitude I’m not sure that I mean.
She won’t die right away, at least. She’ll have a chance of survival and I’ll have a chance of plausible deniability in case the entire situation falls apart before it plays out.
“So what?” Gino says. “We’re going to sell her to a bunch of creeps from Pittsburgh? How do we know what they’re gonna do with her?”
He’s asking more questions than I thought he could possibly have about this situation. It’s in my best interests to change the subject quickly or say anything that garners Gino’s agreement.
“You’re a pessimist, Gino,” I say with a casual shrug, hoping to encourage Gino to dismiss his concerns. “She could be a smooth talker and work her way out of the arrangement.”
“Be realistic,” Gino says. “Likely, they want to punish Delphine, not take her off your hands out of the goodness of their heart.”
“Your ideas never make us any money and mine will,” I say to Gino, desperately trying not to show my twin brother how easy it is for him to make me seethe. “Will you shut the fuck up and get on board?”
I pause and just stare at him. Gino can’t afford to turn down money right now.
Buffalo is much more expensive than our spot of heaven in Italy.
Not just that, but he spends a lot of money on our family and women.
He’s going to be one of those foolish old mobsters robbed of everything in his last years for being too damn generous.
“Fine,” Gino says reluctantly. “We sell the pregnant chick to some asshole from Pittsburgh and hope Luigi doesn’t taxidermy our ballsacks.”
“See what I mean? Pessimist. It’s not going to end badly at all.”
“Are you sure?” Gino asks me.
I’m never sure about my foolish plans but… I nod confidently. Fortune favors the bold, doesn’t it? My phone buzzes as we leave the restaurant. It’s a message from my sister Nicki – the worst part of my move back to Buffalo.
I worry that soon, my father will make her my complete responsibility.
She’s staying at my lake house for the time being until the end of the summer.
I don’t know what’s going to happen after that since I fully intend on returning to the home that I bought, regardless of my father’s beliefs that the women in our family should be freeloaders.
Nicki: Can Geralynn stay over tonight?
She can’t have guests at the lake house without my permission.
Asking about this one in particular makes my skin crawl.
They’ve been best friends for years, but I’ve always been bothered by Geralynn’s…
everything. Whenever I’ve been in the same room with her, especially lately, the physical discomfort becomes almost too much to bear.
I don’t know what Nicki sees in her. Maybe by the fall, Geralynn will have trotted off to law school or Canada or somewhere hundreds of miles away from Buffalo to cure Nicki of this poorly thought out friendship.
They truly have nothing in common. But if I sweat the small stuff with Nicki, she’ll only become a bigger pain in my ass later.
I give up easily on keeping the two friends apart tonight. Bigger fish to fry.
Me: Sure. Don’t leave a mess.
Truthfully, it rubs me the wrong way how much time my sister spends with Geralynn. She’s always around. Always lurking. Always provoking that deep, uncomfortable feeling inside me that I must ignore. At least tonight my problems will be far greater than my younger sister and her best friend.