CHAPTER TWENTY
When Big Daddy and Amelia first walked into Monk’s house, they could hear Ashley crying out and their bed bouncing upstairs after the butler sat them down in the living area and left the room. Even Monk’s groans and moans they could hear.
Which made Big Daddy shake his head in disgust. “His ass knew we were coming in and he couldn’t stop that shit and handle his business? It’s ridiculous!”
But Amelia smiled. Had it been she and Hammer going at it and guests showed up, there was no way, based on the way Hammer always put it on her, that they would have stopped either.
Whomever was visiting would have had to wait.
And based on what Jenay told Amelia about how Big Daddy always put it on her, she knew her brother wouldn’t have stopped either.
He was just worried about the war and Ashley and wanted something to change.
He wanted things to go back to the way they were. He was just blowing off steam.
But they had to wait. And eventually Monk and Ashley got themselves together and made their way downstairs.
It was strange to Big Daddy and Ashley to see Monk Paletti not wearing a suit and tie and especially not wearing his Humphrey Bogart-style gangster hat. But there he was: hatless and in jeans and a t-shirt. It was odd to see.
“Daddy!” Ashley said happily as Big Daddy rose to his feet and she ran into his arms.
Monk hugged Amelia while father and daughter were embracing. When they stopped embracing, Ashley hugged Amelia too.
But instead of sitting with her father and aunt on the sofa, Ashley went and sat on the loveseat with Monk. Although Big Daddy didn’t think anything of it, Amelia knew it was Ashley’s need to show some semblance of independence because she was around her very domineering father.
Amelia was also smiling at Ashley’s choice of clothing: a pair of hotpants and a halter top. Ashley was known as the super-party-girl before Monk married her and moved her into his world, but her reputation preceded her in Jersey too. “Girl, what club you just came from?” she asked her niece.
“No club, Auntie Millie. It’s late. We were in bed.”
But Amelia also noticed that Monk and Big Daddy did not so much as shake hands, and neither man was smiling or looking cordial at all.
And after Ashley and Amelia stopped with the small talk, Monk got down to it. He was seated on the edge of his seat and was looking stern and uncompromising the way he usually looked to Amelia. “How can I help you, Big Daddy?” he asked his father-in-law.
Big Daddy was surprised that Monk jumped right into it. And especially with Ashley right there beside him. “Ashley, leave the room,” Big Daddy ordered her.
But Monk’s temper flared. Those Sinatra brothers were his least favorite people right now after what went down.
And they both had a habit of treating Ashley as if she didn’t matter: as if she was still just the unserious party girl with not a brain in her head.
She had grown accustomed to letting them treat her as less-than their golden child Carly, but he wasn’t tolerating it.
“This is her home,” he pointed out to Big Daddy.
“She doesn’t have to leave any room in her own home. ”
“So you let her sit in on your mob shit when I told you before you married her that that was not allowed?”
“She doesn’t sit in on anything, Big Daddy. But that doesn’t give you a right to try to control her in her own home.”
“So she controls your house?”
Amelia looked at Monk. Didn’t he know better than to try and mix it up with a man like Charles? She understood his irritation, but still. It was Charles. It was Big Daddy. He earned the right to be respected.
But Monk felt he’d earned that right too. “Ashley is not in control of this house,” said Monk. “I control this house.”
“You control this house but yet you can’t control your wife when she’s running the street with other men. Yeah, I heard about that. But yet you control this house?”
Monk had it up to here with those rumors, and was disappointed that Big Daddy went there, but he knew what he was doing. He was angry at Monk about the war, and everything else was collateral damage. “I don’t control my wife any more than you control Jenay.”
Amelia and Ashley glanced at Big Daddy. They both knew how sensitive he was about Jenay.
They all thought Jenay had died after being caught up in another one of Mick’s messy situations.
It nearly broke Charles. When it was discovered that Jenay was, in fact, still alive, it still took a lot out of him.
But he didn’t say a word. He let Monk have his say.
“Ash has her own life,” Monk continued, “and I let her live it.”
But Big Daddy wasn’t trying to hear it. He looked at Ashley. “Leave the room,” he said to his daughter again.
Ashley thought Monk’s objection settled that. Besides, she wanted to know what was going on with his visit and all of the increased security anyway. Not meaning to be disrespectful, but it was her irritation with Big Daddy’s order that caused her to roll her eyes.
But as soon as she rolled them, Big Daddy jumped up, grabbed her by her halter top, and slammed her slender body against his powerful body. “Roll them again,” he warned her in no uncertain terms.
Monk jumped up and pulled Ashley away from her father. But Ashley could see the concern in her father’s eyes. She knew, at the end of the day, nobody could possibly love her more than Big Daddy did.
But in truth, Big Daddy wasn’t just concerned for Ashley’s wellbeing, he was anguished about it.
In moments like this, he wished he’d never approved their union.
“I told you I don’t want my daughter caught up in your mob shit, Monk,” he said with clenched teeth.
“Didn’t I tell you to keep her out of that part of your life? ”
“And I do, Big Daddy!” Monk said with equal anguish. “I do!”
Both men stared into each other’s eyes. And they saw the same thing: fear. And it was all because of their love for Ashley. Big Daddy realized Monk no more wanted Ashley involved in their craziness than he did. He backed down.
When Big Daddy sat back down, Monk looked at Ashley. “Why don’t you take your aunt to the parlor? We’ll only be a few minutes.”
But Ashley was nobody’s fool. “Does all of this increased security have to do with my family?” she asked Monk.
Monk didn’t involve her in his mob life, but he didn’t lie to her either. “Yes,” he admitted.
It was something Ashley didn’t want to hear. But she exhaled. “Then I’m staying,” she said, and sat back down.
“There ya’ go,” Amelia said inwardly, appreciating Ashley taking a stand.
Monk looked at Big Daddy. She would have never known anything had he not shown up here. But Monk respected Ashley’s right to know what was happening in her own family. He sat down too.
“How can I help you, Big Daddy?” he asked Charles again.
“Make a truce with the family,” Big Daddy said.
But Monk was already shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen.”
“And why not, Frankie?” asked Amelia.
“Anything else?” Monk asked as if it was a moot point already.
But it wasn’t to the Sinatras. Including Ashley. “A truce?” Then Ashley looked at Monk. “You’re at war with my family?”
Monk hated to go there, but Big Daddy’s presence again left him no choice. “Yes.”
Ashley was floored. “What about?”
“Your uncle Mick.”
When he said Mick’s name, Ashley knew not to ask too many questions. Mick’s life was too complicated for her to even wrap her brain around. She stopped trying long ago.
“There has to be a truce,” Big Daddy said to Monk, “and it has to start with you.”
Monk frowned. “Why it got to start with me?”
Now it was Big Daddy’s time to frown. “Why do you think, Frankie? Your guys hit his guys first. That’s why!”
“That’s what he told you?”
Big Daddy and Amelia both stared at Monk. “What do you mean is that what he told me?” asked Big Daddy. “Are you saying he’s not telling me the truth?”
“Did he tell you about Dorian Toscano?”
Big Daddy stared at Monk. “Is that the kid they call Dory?”
“That’s him.”
“Mick’s son?”
Monk didn’t want to be the one to reveal any of Mick’s substantial dirty laundry, but apparently that cat was already out the bag. “Yes.”
“He told me how Dory and Danny Cerva got into it and Dory took Danny out.”
Pain mixed with rage appeared in Monk’s already large, faraway-looking eyes, and his jaw tightened. “Is that all he told you? Did he tell you about Dory’s outfit?”
“What do you mean his outfit? Dory has an outfit?”
“Hell yeah he’s got a crew. Mick has footprints over there and I do too, but Dory runs those Italian street gangs,” said Monk.
“They aren’t Mafia, but in my opinion they’re worse.
They’re undisciplined. They do whatever the hell Dory tells them to do, no matter how reckless his orders are. Or did Mick fail to mention that part?”
Amelia glanced at Big Daddy. “He told us he had a son,” Amelia said. “That’s about it.”
But even that was news to Ashley. Uncle Mick had a son named Dory? She was shocked. But she knew not to verbalize anything or her father or her husband, both domineering men in her life, would banish her to another room immediately. She remained silent, but took it all in like a sponge.
“So Dory’s a mob boss,” said Big Daddy. “What else is new?”
“A gang boss to be more precise,” said Monk. “And his men not only took out my underboss, but they took out Danny’s entire family right along with him.”
All three Sinatras were surprised. Big Daddy knew Mick was vicious, and it would stand to reason that his kid would be too.
But Mick was a fair man in the end. If what Monk said was true, his kid didn’t appear to be.
“Why would Dory take out Danny’s family too?
Was it that bad? Were your men in Rome and Dory at war? ”