CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Early that next morning Mick woke up alone in their bedroom.
At first he was confused. Then he realized he had gotten in the recliner by the fireplace, just to see if she would return any time soon, but he had fallen asleep.
When he looked over at their bed and saw that Roz wasn’t asleep in it, nor had it been disturbed since last night when he got up to give her her birthday gift, his heart sank.
Did she spend the night with that joker?
He grabbed his cellphone that was seated on the table beside the recliner and saw that Roz hadn’t phoned him.
He knew she was okay, or her security details would have been in touch, but it still felt jarring to Mick.
To know that his woman was with a good-looking man whom he knew had designs on her was unsettling.
He didn’t trust Kelly Cochran as far as he could throw him. But he trusted Roz.
Not that his trust in her made him feel secure. It didn’t. Because he knew there was such a thing as a last straw. How much more of his bullshit was she going to take? That was what kept him deeply concerned.
And there was that matter of Monk Paletti.
He got up, peed and showered, brushed and gargled, and dressed in one of his tailored suits. In the mirror, he looked like a seasoned businessman who knew exactly what he was doing. Underneath, his life was an unmitigated mess. He made his way downstairs.
Although almost everybody from the party had dispatched back to their own homes and home states and family life, Sal Gabrini remained at the Sinatra compound in case his services (and syndicate) were needed.
When Mick came downstairs, Sal was seated in the dining hall in his usual double-breasted suit and tie, looking very much like the mob boss he actually was rather than the businessman he was trying to project.
Big Daddy and Amelia had long since been back in town from their trip to Jersey and were seated at the table too.
Teddy was also there. And Nikki, who had just taken their daughter Kimmie to the family room where Jackie and Duke were hanging out, was just walking back into the dining hall.
But Amelia was the first to see Mick. “If it ain’t Mister Meek and Mild,” she said and then smiled.
Mick was not amused. “Hammer Reese hasn’t summoned your dizzy ass back to Montreal yet?”
“Very inappropriate,” Amelia said. “How would you like it if I said you look like shit? Which you do by the way.”
Big Daddy gave a weak smile, but it was obvious to Mick that he had Monk on his mind and what was going to happen to Ashley.
“Any word from your guys on the street?” Big Daddy asked as Mick sat down at the table.
Mick looked at Teddy. Teddy shook his head. “We got nothing so far. They can’t even confirm it was Monk who set fire to our tanker.”
Mick frowned. “Like hell they can’t. I know none of them want to accuse Monk of anything. I didn’t either. But giving him the benefit of the doubt is over. His men tried to take out my son when they knew he was my son. That case is closed.”
That was a question Teddy had been dying to ask his father since last night. “Are you certain Frankie know about your son, Pop?” he asked him.
“Yes, he knew. It was common knowledge in Rome and he has operations in Rome,” said Mick.
Big Daddy nodded his head. “He knew,” he said to Teddy.
But that only disgusted Teddy more. “And you didn’t think it would be wise to at least tell Ma about this son before somebody else did?”
“I told you I was still working some things out. Didn’t I tell your ass that?”
“But it’s your wife, Pop,” said Teddy, still unsatisfied. “She’s entitled to know before anybody else.”
“Don’t you worry about my wife.”
“Somebody’s got to,” Teddy fired back.
Mick gave him that chillingly hard stare. “That conversation is over,” he made clear.
Teddy looked at Big Daddy as if he was telepathically telling him to deal with this guy because he couldn’t.
Big Daddy got the clue and exhaled. “Millie and I went to see Frankie last night,” he said to Mick.
Mick frowned. “What the fuck for? I’m not kowtowing to that asshole. What you went to see him for?”
“For you to ask me why I went to see Monk,” said Big Daddy, “tells me all I need to know about your mind space right now. Sometimes I wonder if you can tell your head from your asshole.”
“What are you talking?” Mick asked him.
“My daughter lives in Monk Paletti’s house, in case you’ve forgotten. Remember Ashley? Your niece!”
“She has nothing to do with this.”
“Are you nuts? She has everything to do with this because you’ve decided to go to war with her husband over some so-called son we never heard of before.
Frankie is my son, in case you’ve forgotten that too.
He’s my son-in-law. And you didn’t bother to tell me what was happening either?
Sometimes you’re a heartless sonofabitch, Mick! ”
It was exactly what everybody was thinking at that table, and Mick knew it too. That was why he didn’t fire back. He had no ammunition against the truth. “I have to make tough decisions. It was a tough call, but I made it and I’d make it again today if I had to.”
“He told us the whole story,” said Amelia.
Mick looked at her. So did everybody else at that table. “What whole story?” asked Teddy.
“According to Frankie, it was Dory who started the whole thing.”
“Pop’s son started it?” Teddy asked. “How?”
“Danny Cerva, Monk’s underboss, was taking care of some Bonaducci family business in Rome. Like Mick said, they have operations there. Well Danny had this side chick in Rome and he found out that Dory was fooling around with his sidepiece when he wasn’t in town.”
“This whole war is about a woman?” asked Teddy with disbelief in his voice.
“Keep talking,” said Sal.
“According to Frankie,” said Big Daddy, taking over from Amelia, “this Dory got into a fistfight with Danny. By all indications, Dory won the fight. But given that his crazy ass is Mick’s kid, victory wasn’t enough for him.
He had to annihilate his opponent because that opponent deigned to be involved with his woman period, or for some other lame excuse.
So later that night Dory did a hit on Danny and his guys in Rome, while he ordered his guys in the U.S. to take out Danny’s family.”
They were all shocked. “What?” asked Nikki.
“And that’s exactly what they did because I checked it out,” said Amelia. “They killed Danny’s wife and his kids. That’s what really started this war.”
Everybody looked at Mick. Teddy was anguished. “Pop, you knew this?”
“They hit my son,” Mick said firmly.
“They hit him back, Pop, after he killed Danny’s family!”
“Fuck the reason,” Mick fired back. “They didn’t come to me and let me handle it.
They tried to murder my son.” His voice rose.
“Nobody touches my family on the face of this earth without retribution from me. Nobody! They hit my son then I’m hitting them back harder than they ever thought was possible!
Who the fuck gives a shit about the reason? You don’t touch mine!”
It was classic Mick, Sal thought. Classic Mick! He didn’t understand why they were all so shocked.
But they were. Because it wasn’t just Classic Mick handling his business. It was Classic Mick going after Monk. Going after family.
Big Daddy didn’t know what to say to that. He stood up and went over to the window, looking out.
Amelia exhaled. “So we’re officially at war with one of our own,” she said.
“We’re at war, that’s for damn sure,” said Sal. “But to what end, though, Uncle Mick?”
They all looked at Sal. “Are we supposed to be taking out Monk’s men,” Sal asked Mick, “or are we supposed to be taking out Monk himself? Because you and me both know that’s how this shit normally works.
You cut off the head of that fucker and the rest will die.
If this war is about to be waged, then I need to know the end game.
I need to know if taking out Frankie is part of the plan because I may not sign on to that shit. ”
Nobody could have said it better than Sal Gabrini. He was on Mick’s level. He spoke Mick’s language. That was why everybody, especially Teddy and Big Daddy, looked at Mick for a response.
But Mick, being Mick, didn’t give them one. “Has anybody heard from Roz?” he asked them instead.
Amelia was floored. “Roz? You’re thinking about Roz at a time like this? That’s what’s on your mind?”
“Don’t you worry about what’s on my mind,” Mick responded. “Just answer my question. Has anybody seen my wife?”
“We need to know what the game plan is, Mick!” Big Daddy yelled at him. “Are we or are we not going to take out Monk Paletti? Just answer that question!”
“His organization attempted to kill my son when they knew he was my son.” His look was fierce. “What do you think is the answer to that question?”
It was a chilling response. But one they knew Mick believed with all his might.
It wasn’t just that Monk’s organization was in danger: which was bad enough.
But Monk was in danger too! And they would have all believed rightly so had it been any other mob boss on earth.
But it wasn’t any other mob boss. It was Frankie!
“I saw her earlier this morning,” Nikki said to Mick.
She knew how concerned he was about his wife last night.
And how hurt he was to see her in the arms of another man.
Nikki didn’t tell that part to anybody. Not even Teddy.
But she saw Mick’s reaction. She knew he wasn’t going to discuss anything about anything until he had Roz back under his thumb.
Mick looked at Nikki. For some reason, he always viewed her as his ally. “Where is she, Nikki?”
“She’s in the guest bedroom. Number three downstairs. She slept in there last night.”
Mick was surprised to hear it. “She came home last night?”
Nikki nodded. “Yes sir. A few hours after we got back. You were upstairs asleep so we didn’t disturb you.”