8. Luca
Luca
Chapter eight
Giada is left standing under the portico after her brother unceremoniously dismisses her by turning his back and walking away. If the furious look in her eyes is anything to go by, I’d say Carlo is pretty damn lucky there are no sharp objects within his sister’s reach. She looks about five seconds away from stabbing him in the back.
“Maybe you should let me take you up to your room,” I offer.
Her angry gaze swings to me. “Well, looks like you have a new master to bow to, Luca. Please don’t let me keep you waiting. Run along after my brother.” She waves her hand in the direction of where her brother walked off.
Why the hell I thought this girl was going to accept any form of help from me is anyone’s guess. When I saw her face as they were putting her father into the police cruiser, the devastation written in her amber eyes, I couldn’t help but feel sympathy. I know damn well what it’s like to have your world turned upside down. Different circumstances, sure, but for a brief moment I saw a side of Giada I’d never witnessed before and I wanted to help, to be here for her. I certainly won’t make that mistake again.
“Whatever, princess. Have it your way.”
Turning on my heels, I leave her standing outside and go in search of Carlo. I find him sitting in his office with a glass of scotch in his hand and his phone to his ear. He motions for me to have a seat while he listens to the person on the other end, humming his agreement a few times before thanking whoever he’s talking to and disconnecting the call.
“Scotch?” he offers as though this is simply a friendly little chat and we didn’t just witness his father being hauled away in handcuffs. I’m not particularly surprised. I’ve come to know Carlo as an ice-cold asshole. I don’t know if the man feels any emotion whatsoever or if there’s just a black hole in the center of his chest that craves to be filled with power and other people’s pain. It seems to me the latter rings true for most, if not all, days.
Playing along with his relaxed attitude, I nod and he pours another drink from the bottle sitting on his desk.
“Is my sister in her room?”
“Yeah.” At least, that’s where I’m assuming she stormed off to.
“There’s going to be some changes around here happening a hell of a lot sooner than I planned,” Carlo tells me while taking a drink of his scotch.
“I’ll say. Did the lawyer give you any insight?”
“Nah. He won’t know much more than what the warrant says until the arraignment on Monday. It’s a hell of a thing. I was hoping we still had some sway in the US attorney’s office. We should have known something.”
The fact they had any sway at all is news to me. Though not surprising. Considering all the shit Francesco’s been responsible for, I’m shocked the man wasn’t put away years ago.
“Giada being here is gonna be a headache,” Carlo tells me. “Too bad the old man didn’t marry her off years ago. Now I’ll have to deal with that shit, and let me tell you, finding anyone that wants to take her on is going to be a pain in my ass. Who’s going to want a wife with a father in jail and what looks to be a crumbling organization?” The way he sighs and looks into his glass of scotch, as though somehow the liquid will hold the answers to his question, is laughable. He truly expects me to sit here and feel sorry for him that he’s going to be the one to deal with it.
“No matter,” he says, straightening. “When we have more details after Monday, I’ll see if I can persuade the attorney in the case to lose some evidence. Shouldn’t be too hard. Usually, a little threatening goes a long way with those guys. Fucking pricks.” He sips his drink again, and I take a healthy swallow of my own.
“What do you need from me?” I ask.
Carlo tilts his head back and forth, considering my question. “I want you to keep an eye on Giada. Make sure she doesn’t get herself into trouble.”
“Any trouble in particular you’re concerned with?”
He shrugs. “She’s too headstrong. Did you see the way she demanded answers from me? She would’ve never dared with our father, especially with cops all over the place. I need her to stay out of my way. If the wrong people see her mouthing off to me, they’re going to think I’m not fit to lead if I can’t even handle my own sister. The truth is, Luca, my father wasn’t going to be head of the organization for much longer as it was. This moves up the timeline and actually may work in our favor when all is said and done.”
“I didn’t know the boss was retiring.”
Looking like the cat that ate the canary, Carlo leans in with a grin on his face. “My father is dying, Luca. No one knows except me, him, and his doctors. So if he gets convicted, the feds will think that’s the end of the Cataldi organization. And he won’t be in prison long before the cancer finishes him off. If he doesn’t get convicted, then he’s dead in the next year anyways. And the feds will think the same thing, at least for the next few years. He’s always been the face of the family, and they’ll assume we’ll be in shambles. It buys us time for me to take the organization in the direction I’ve been working on without raising any red flags with the law.”
There’s no way to hide the surprised look on my face at Carlo’s admission. The old man is dying. It also makes sense now why Carlo isn’t worried about him being in prison. He knew he was going to be taking over sooner rather than later. Too bad it won’t be my bullet that wipes his father from this earth.
“I had no idea he was sick.”
“No one did.”
“Not even Giada?”
“He was going to tell her after he secured a marriage contract, though that plan has been put on hold until we see what side he falls on after his trial. There are a few things up in the air until we see whether or not he beats the charges.”
I consider everything Carlo’s just told me, but he seems to take my silence as disappointment that I’m not more involved.
“Don’t worry, Luca. I’ll make sure to bring you in once everything is set up. We’re doing this how my dad wants, for now, so keep your mouth shut about the cancer, yeah?”
“Of course, Carlo. My lips are sealed.”
He nods and finishes his scotch. “Think I’ll head out for a while. Work off some of this stress.” His lascivious grin tells me he’s going to visit one of the brothels. “I’d like for you to stay on the property until shit gets sorted. It’ll make it easier for you to keep an eye on Giada. If she needs to leave the estate, I want you on her at all times.”
“Is there some sort of threat we should be worried about?”
“Not yet. But the last thing I need is the feds trying to talk to her or another organization vying for power and trying to use my sister to do it.”
That would certainly ruin his plans to do the same shit. I suppose, in his mind, he has the right since she’s now going to be his property, along with everything else his father is sure to give him control over.
Taking that control may be a bit more difficult than Carlo realizes. Part of my job for my cousin is to keep my eyes and ears peeled for anything he can use. I’ve heard the whispers from other capos about Carlo. I’ve seen the eye rolls behind his back. If I were a betting man, I’d put money on the other capos wanting to take over in the power vacuum that’s sure to come with Francesco no longer heading the organization. They’d never dare with the old man at the helm, but Carlo? Yeah, I’m damn sure he’s in for a fight.
“Alright. I’ll head over in the morning and grab a few things before Giada gets up.”
I stand to leave, but Carlo stops me before I make it to the door. “Things are going to be changing around here, Luca. All the assholes that thought we were dying out are in for a rude fucking awakening.” His smile is so damn smug I wish I could punch it off his face.
“Can’t wait.” Things are going to change, and I, for one, am looking forward to watching the entire Cataldi organization crumble from the inside out.
I wake before the sun and head to my shitty little apartment in Boston. The only reason I like this place is because no one asks questions. This isn’t the type of building where anyone is interested in getting to know their neighbors, which suits me fine.
The first thing I do is grab my burner phone from the crawl space I cut into the ceiling of my closet. It’s as good a hiding spot as I could figure out in the small one-bedroom apartment.
It’s early as shit to be calling Finn, but I don’t know the next time I’ll have a chance. I don’t think it’s safe to bring the phone to the estate. It’s not as though there’s reason to believe Carlo is suspicious of me, but on the off chance that he or someone else goes through my things when I’m not around, it’d be pretty damn hard to explain away a phone with only two numbers on it belonging to my cousin and his lieutenant, Cillian.
When I dial Finn’s number, he answers in a groggy voice, “Luca. Everything good?”
“Yeah. Did you see the news yet?”
“Fuck no. I just went to bed two hours ago. What’s going on?”
“Francesco Cataldi has been arrested on RICO charges.”
Finn releases a low whistle. “Well, that’s something. What’s Carlo saying?”
“A lot of talk about him being in charge now and things changing, but he hasn’t told me anything specific. Just said when the time is right he’ll pull me in. He also confided that the old man has cancer and doesn’t expect to make it more than a year.”
“Shit. Well, that’s definitely news. This is the first I’m hearing about it.”
“They didn’t want anyone knowing. Carlo was saying if his father goes to prison, it gets the heat off him, and even if he doesn’t, he’ll be dead soon. So no matter what, Carlo will be running things.”
“Wow, he sounds real broken up about losing his old man,” Finn comments with disgust ringing in his tone. That’s the thing about my cousin. Family means everything to him. Nothing like what I’ve seen from the Cataldis. Especially where Giada is concerned.
“Yeah, here’s the thing, though. He wants me at the house to babysit Giada. I’m keeping my apartment, but the phone is staying here. I wouldn’t put it past him to search his employees' rooms or some shit.”
“Makes sense. Need me to come water your plants or something?”
I bark out a laugh. “No, asshole, you don’t need to water plastic.”
After I moved into my apartment, my cousin thought a little housewarming gift was in order and got me a fake plant to stick in the corner to make the place feel more homey, he said.
“See, it was the perfect gift,” he says, chuckling into the phone.
“Yeah, yeah. Anyways, if you don’t hear from me for a while, that’s why. I don’t know when I’ll be able to make it to my place or how often.”
“Alright, cousin. Stay safe and keep your ears open. If Carlo starts making moves, I want to know everything you can find out. Sounds like we’ll have you out of there soon.”
“I fucking hope so.”
“If it was getting to be too much, you’d tell me, right?”
“We’ve gone over this shit. Francesco is on his way out no matter what, but the way Carlo makes it sound, they’ll rise from the ashes like a fucking phoenix or some shit. The plan stays the same for now. I stay inside so we can take them out and make their organization nothing more than a cautionary tale.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I’m fucking sure.” I’m not throwing away years of work.
“Alright. Listen, I need to get a few more hours of shut-eye. You good?”
“Fine, Sleeping Beauty. Get your rest,” I reply.
“Fuck you, asshole.”
“Love you too, cousin.”
I disconnect the call and pack a bag before grabbing the large envelope where I keep the only evidence of my past. Pulling out the stack of pictures, my eyes land on the first one of me and my dad, Frank, taken at the lake we used to camp and fish at. I was eight and had just caught my first “big one.” My dad’s smile is beaming, and I look so damn pleased with myself as I grin into the camera. It was a great day. The one beneath it is of my mother and father holding me when I was just a few weeks old. The look of love and pride was evident on both their faces. They had no idea that less than a month later, they’d lose it all. Both are pictures of families ripped apart by death before their time. Both pictures remind me of why I’m doing this, of why I’ll watch the Cataldi empire burn to ash at my feet.
When I get back to the house, Giada is in the kitchen dressed in a pair of black slacks matched with a green sweater, her amber eyes shining with determination.
“You’re up early,” I say, walking to the coffeepot to grab myself a cup.
“I need you to take me to the police station.” She leans against the counter and brings her coffee cup to her lips, taking a long sip.
“Turning yourself in?”
She sets the cup on the counter and cocks her head, her eyes narrowing at me as I lean against the counter opposite her. “That’s pretty fucking tasteless considering we just watched my father be arrested last night, Luca. I want to visit him.”
She’s right. It was tasteless, but I have no sympathy for the man sitting in jail. Not when my parents are buried six feet under at his command. Looking at the pictures at my apartment this morning has all the anger I felt when I came to Boston boiling too close to the surface. It’s not Giada’s fault, but I’m finding it difficult to look at her and not see the sins of her father. Fair? No. Honest? Yes.
“I doubt they’ll let him have visitors other than his lawyers yet.”
“I’m going down there, Luca. With or without you.”
I have a feeling this falls under the purview of my keeping Giada out of trouble. She’s liable to march in there and make demands, possibly landing herself in a cell next to her old man for throwing a temper tantrum if she doesn’t get her way.
I let out a frustrated breath and take several healthy swigs of my coffee before setting the cup in the sink. “Fine. Let’s go.”
When we pull up to the station, where we’ve been told by her father’s lawyer he is being held, Giada’s jaw clenches as she looks at the front of the building.
“You alright?”
“Carlo thinks he’s in charge. Did he tell you that? Now that my father is in jail, he thinks he can run my life. Thinks he can make decisions that affect me without caring one way or another how I feel about it. That I don’t need to know anything about what’s going on with my own family.”
“So, what? You’re here to get it from the horse’s mouth? Do you think your father is going to let you go and live however the hell you want just because he isn’t around? Giada, you’re smarter than that.”
A humorless huff of laughter escapes her lips. “Not according to Carlo.” She releases a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. I just want someone to tell me what the hell is happening.”
Giada is desperate for answers, but if she thinks she’s going to find any here, she’s dead wrong. Francesco Cataldi has never felt the need to explain anything to anyone, certainly not his daughter.
“Okay, let’s go,” I say and exit the car before rounding the hood and opening her door for her.
Giada walks into the police station and to the front desk with her head held high. “I’m here to see Francesco Cataldi,” she tells the male officer manning the front window.
He looks her up and down, a bored expression covering his face. “And you are?”
“His daughter.”
He looks something up on his computer. “No visitors allowed,” he tells her.
“May I speak to your superior please?”
The annoyed officer tilts his head to the side and gives her a hard look. “He ain’t gonna tell you anything different. No visitors,” he reiterates more firmly than the first time he denied her.
Giada lays her hands on the counter and leans closer to the glass partition separating her and the officer. “Excuse me, Officer White, but until your supervisor comes out and tells me I’m being denied access to my father, I’ll be waiting right over there.” She points a slim finger at the chairs in the lobby. ”And I won’t move from there until I get an answer.”
The bored officer rolls his eyes then looks back at his computer. “Suit yourself. Have fun wasting your time.” He doesn’t look at her again for a few moments and she rightfully takes it as the dismissal it’s intended to be.
Giada walks to the plastic chair and sits, crossing her legs with her hands folded on her lap, sitting tall as though she wasn’t just told to get the hell out.
I have a seat next to her, but she doesn’t acknowledge me, instead staring at the wall opposite us.
“Do you really want to sit here all day? I don’t think he’s going to budge.” I realize trying to reason with the woman is futile, but the last thing I want to do is be stuck in a fucking police station all day.
“If you have other plans, then by all means, don’t let me stop you.”
“You’re a real peach this morning,” I mumble, leaning back in the chair.
“Excuse the hell out of me, Luca. I’m so sorry if my attitude isn’t to your liking after my father was arrested, and I’m being told my life is now in the hands of my asshole brother.”
Before I can utter another word, a man in an expensive navy suit walks through the door, his gaze zeroing in on the two of us in the uncomfortable plastic chairs.
Giada stands, and I follow suit when the man walks over to us, holding out his hand. “Giada, what are you doing here?” he asks.
“Thank God you’re here, Mr. Dratch. I want to see my father and the unhelpful officer”—she says loud enough for him to hear—“won’t let me through.”
Officer White rolls his eyes but doesn’t take them off the computer screen.
“Your father doesn’t want visitors, Giada. I figured Carlo would have told you that.”
As if she told her brother what she was doing.
“I wanted to at least try. I need to speak to him.” She conveniently leaves out the fact she most likely didn’t discuss this little outing with Carlo.
“He won’t see you. He’s only allowing counsel. I’m sorry.”
If I wasn’t watching Giada as closely as I am, I would have missed the slight slump in her posture at his words. It’s minuscule, but I know it means she’s realizing she won’t get her way.
“Will you tell him I was here, and I’d like to speak to him, please?”
“Of course. I know this is stressful for everyone. Why don’t you go home and take a nice bath or get a manicure. I’m sure that would relax you, sweetheart.”
Giada’s lips thin into a straight line. “Thank you for your concern about my grooming habits, Mr. Dratch. I’ll take that under advisement.” She spins on her heels and marches to the door, roughly pushing it open. The clueless lawyer catches my eye and rolls his before turning toward the front desk and speaking to Officer White.
Following Giada outside, I spot her walking toward our car, her hands clenched into fists then releasing over and over. I make it to her before she crosses the street.
“That fucking prick,” she grits out through her hard-set jaw.
“Officer White or Mr. Dratch?” I ask, unlocking the door with the fob in my hand before opening it for her.
“Both.” She sits in the car and jerkily grabs the seat belt, tugging it across her chest.
When I walk around the hood, I see her through the windshield having a very angry, one-sided conversation with herself. Opening the driver’s side door, the last word I hear is asshole.
“Home?” I ask, starting the luxury sedan.
“I have a better idea.” She slides her sunglasses over her angry eyes. “I need a bar and a jukebox.”
I should insist on going home. It would be the sensible thing to do. But all Giada is going to do there is stew and scheme. Her brother needs me to keep her out of his hair, and there’s a part of me that feels bad for the girl. Her father and brother are the assholes. Giada was just born into the wrong family.
“I know just the place.”