Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Dante
The first thing I do Monday morning is reassign Adrian's former associates.
Dave and Vince—two men who worked under Adrian when he managed accounts for us.
They knew about his gambling and they said nothing.
Naturally I ignored them and focused on punishing the actual bastard hoping the fear would get into his associates but right now?
I can’t think of how Adrian could use his old buddies.
So, I pick them out.
I don't fire them. That would be merciful.
Instead, I move them to sanitation routes in Staten Island. The worst routes that involve actual trash, not just laundering money through waste management contracts.
"Consider it a lesson in loyalty," I tell Dave when he shows up in my office, his face pale. "You work for me now. Not Adrian. And when someone in this family is betraying us, you report it. Understand?"
"Y-Yes, sir."
"Good. You start tomorrow, 6:00 am."
He leaves without another word.
The second thing I do is call Judge Brennan.
He answers on the third ring, his voice careful. "Dante. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I'm calling in a marker."
Silence. Then: "What do you need?"
"Background on Caterina Bellandi. Court records, sealed documents, anything that might exist. I need to know if she has vulnerabilities."
"That's... asking a lot. The Bellandis are connected."
"So am I. And you owe me for the election fraud case I made disappear."
Another pause. "I'll see what I can find."
"You have forty-eight hours."
I hang up before he can negotiate.
The third thing—and the most dangerous—is the sit-down with the Bellandi intermediary.
We meet at a restaurant in Little Italy. Neutral ground. Public enough to avoid violence, private enough to speak freely.
The intermediary is a man named Carlo Ferretti. Mid-fifties, silver hair, expensive suit. He's been negotiating for the Bellandis for twenty years, and his reputation is solid. Smart. Careful. The kind of man who knows when to push and when to retreat.
He orders espresso. I order nothing.
"Mr. Vitale." He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Thank you for agreeing to meet."
"Let's skip the pleasantries, Carlo. You know why I'm here."
"Caterina."
"Yes." I lean back in my chair, letting the silence stretch. Making him work for it.
He sighs, sets down his cup. "I want to be clear: what Caterina is doing, she's doing on her own. The Bellandi family has not sanctioned her actions. Don Massimo is unaware of her... campaign against your relationship."
"Personal or not, continued interference will be treated as hostile."
"Mr. Vitale—"
"No." I lean forward. "I don't care if she's acting alone. I don't care if her father doesn't know. She's threatening my woman, my position, and my reputation. If she continues, I will respond. And when I respond, I won't distinguish between personal vendetta and family action."
Carlo's smile vanishes. "That sounds like a threat."
"Oh, does it?” I stand. "Tell Massimo to control his daughter. Or I will."
I leave without shaking his hand.
That evening, Giulio calls.
I let it go to voicemail.
He calls again. And again.
On the fourth call, I answer. "What."
"Dante." His voice is tight. "We need to talk."
"No, we don't."
"This situation with Bianca—"
"Is none of your concern."
"She's going to destroy you! Don't you see that? Caterina has evidence. She'll release it, and everything we've built will crumble."
"Everything you built already crumbled, Father. Years ago. Need I remind you when you took bribes and disgraced our name? I've spent the last decade rebuilding what you destroyed. Don't fucking lecture me about protecting the family."
"I'm trying to help you—"
"You're trying to help yourself. You want me to marry Caterina because it benefits you. It gives you access to Bellandi power, Bellandi connections. I'm not interested."
"Then you're a fool."
I hang up.
He doesn't call back.
But two days later, Bianca comes to me with a message.
"Someone approached Maria at the school," she says, standing in my office doorway. "Gave her an envelope addressed to me."
I take the envelope. Inside is a handwritten note on expensive stationery. His handwriting—I'd recognize it anywhere. The same script that signed my school papers, wrote birthday cards, penned the letter that almost destroyed our family.
Miss Mancini,
I believe we have much to discuss. Your current situation is untenable, and I may have a solution that benefits us both. Please meet me tomorrow at 2:00 pm at the address below. Come alone.
—Giulio Vitale
The address is a café in Manhattan. Neutral ground where he can make his offer without witnesses.
Clever. Always so clever.
"Did you respond?" I ask.
"I told Maria to tell whoever gave it to her that I'm not interested." She crosses her arms. "Then I came straight here."
Good girl.
I read the note again. A solution that benefits us both. He's offering to pay her off. To make her disappear quietly so I can marry Caterina and he can benefit from the alliance.
Rage floods through me.
"What are we going to do?" Bianca asks.
I go to the fireplace, throw the note inside and watch the paper curl and blacken as I’m thinking how to answer.
"I'm going to treat my father the way I treat any other opponent—with strategy."
She’s not saying a word as I pull out my phone and call Luca. "Hello, brother. I need surveillance on Giulio's staff. Everyone who works for him—secretaries, drivers, security. I want to know who they talk to, where they go, what they say."
"How long?"
"Until I don't need it anymore."
“Done, brother.”
When I hang up, Bianca is watching me with something like sadness in her eyes.
"He's your father," she says quietly. “Family shouldn’t be like this to each other…”
"It’s been a long time since I stopped considering him my father." I pull her close. "His behavior is something I don't tolerate from anyone."
She doesn't argue. Just wraps her arms around my waist and holds on.
The distance between me and Giulio is no longer emotional. It's operational.
He's not family anymore.
He's opposition.
And I know exactly how to handle opposition.