Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Joshua
“ I don’t trust O’Hara,” Don Mazzone states sometime later after Fiero and I have brought the board up to speed. “He knows this threat has come from within his organization, and he still hasn’t found any proof or done anything to stop it.”
I wonder if it’s hard for Ben not being in charge. No one was surprised when Massimo replaced him as president because Ben had been grooming him for the position. All the old dons are either dead or retired now, and we have a younger, more dynamic commission.
When Massimo’s ten-year tenure expires in seven years, there will be competition for the presidency for the first time. I wouldn’t mind a shot at it myself, but if the plans to expand the board of The Commission go ahead, it will only add to the list of contenders.
“He failed to protect our informants too,” Cristian says, forcing me to focus.
“What is more concerning is the breach within our own ranks,” Caleb says. “We need to find out who and why and eliminate the threat before it grows.”
“All are valid concerns,” President Greco says, “but let’s deal with them one at a time.” His gaze swings to me. “Tell me everything you know of O’Hara and your thoughts on his loyalty.”
“O’Hara is the result of an affair, and his parents were never married. He lived with his mom in Ireland until he was thirteen, when his father came for him after being thrust into the leadership role. Sean McDermott’s true heir, Liam, was only five then. Heart problems run in the family, so Sean chose to groom his bastard for succession. A smart move considering he died of a massive coronary when Diarmuid was twenty-two.”
“How prophetic,” Caleb drawls, bouncing his leg.
Ignoring him, I continue. “Diarmuid faced a lot of opposition and dealt with constant threats to his rule the first few years. But things have settled especially after he made the deal with us six years ago. The Irish operation has been more profitable under O’Hara’s reign than at any other time in their history. That should be enough to keep everyone happy.”
“Except Liam is a greedy fuck with a chip on his shoulder,” Fiero adds.
I nod. “Diarmuid and Liam have been at loggerheads since Liam turned twenty-one and felt he had a God-given right to the throne. For the past ten years, he has tried to sow seeds of discontent, but he’s always been shot down.”
“Until now,” Cristian says.
“What’s changed?” Massimo asks, his brow puckering. “Why is he making a move now?”
“An alleged move.” I quirk a brow and look around the table. “We still have no proof Liam is behind the missing supplies, stolen goods, and trail of dead bodies. Neither of our undercover informants were able to find anything before they were killed.”
“Because neither of them could get close enough to McDermott.” Caleb swivels in his chair. “Liam is no dumbass. He’s every bit as intelligent and savvy as O’Hara. He knows Diarmuid is on to him. He knows we have a strong working partnership, which means he more than likely knows we’re infiltrating his ranks in the hopes he’ll out himself.”
“Caleb is right. It’s all too obvious.” I scrub a hand over my smooth jaw. “We now know that Liam has someone on the inside. Someone inside our famiglia is helping him. It’s got to be someone with beef.”
“Everyone has beef over something.” Mazzone taps his pen on the table. “Just because we’re all united under The Commission and we’ve had relative peace and prosperity for years doesn’t mean everyone is happy.”
“We need to stop allowing non-Italian Americans to join our soldati ,” Caleb says. “They’re not as invested as we are. It would be easy to turn them. I bet the traitor is one of them.”
“Only five percent are outsiders, and we only use them in certain circumstances. Most are kept on the fringes, and I dispute your loyalty contention. All are carefully vetted before initiation. We don’t let loose cannons into the fold.” Ben straightens his spine as he turns a blistering look on my brother. Ben’s security company hires staff for legitimate clientele and to bolster our ranks when needed. Most of our soldati do time with the security firm as part of their training as it invokes discipline.
“You’re forgetting I know these men too.” Caleb narrows his eyes at our uncle. “I train them, and I know them better than you. I agree most are commendable and trustworthy, but not all. I’ve already raised objections with our president.”
“We’re getting sidetracked,” Massimo says. “There is merit in discussing your concerns, Caleb, but this isn’t the time. The traitor in our ranks couldn’t have come from the soldati corp. Only a capo or a higher-level mafioso has the authority to access the container rooms and tap into the security systems to disable the camera feeds. Whoever this person or persons is, they are technologically savvy because the detection warnings were also disabled, and that’s not something we train any of our capos to do. It requires knowledge of programming to achieve.”
“He could have hired someone,” Cristian suggests, and heads bob around the table.
“The immediate issue is the missing shipment.” Fiero stands and stretches his arms over his head. “We can’t meet our deliveries. O’Hara will be up shit creek too.”
“Unless he’s the one who stole from us,” Mazzone says.
“I really don’t think he is.” I take a sip of my water before continuing. I voiced similar concerns to Fiero earlier, and I’ve been thinking about this ever since. It doesn’t make sense he was involved. I believe he’s innocent and telling us the truth. “Loyalty matters to O’Hara. He has proven it repeatedly over the years. He is the last person who would risk the wrath of the entire Italian American mafioso . I think it’s Liam. He wants to usurp his brother. He is working with a traitor, or traitors, within our organization and possibly others outside it too. He wants us to point the finger at Diarmuid so we do his dirty work for him.”
“That is a plausible scenario and reason we need to tread carefully,” Ben says. “I trust your instincts, but I’d still like to meet with O’Hara and have him say it to our faces.”
“I agree,” Massimo says, eyeballing his best friend. “Set up a meet for tomorrow.”
“Consider it done.” Fiero pulls out his phone.
“Could we use the chip-tracking software to find our rat?” I direct the question to Ben. One of his IT companies developed the technology. “If we ran a report on location and time status, we could pinpoint who was on the ship earlier this morning. I’ve already emailed you the roster for men who were assigned on this run. Logic would dictate it’s one of them, but it would be unwise to assume.”
“We can run that report for sure.” Ben removes his suit jacket and hangs it on the back of his chair. “But only sixty percent of all New York mafioso have a chip. Most famiglie don’t insist on them, leaving it a voluntary choice.”
“Even if the perp did have a chip, I’m guessing he removed it,” Cristian says. “This all points to someone who is tech savvy. They wouldn’t be that stupid.”
“Valid point,” Massimo says, “but it’s worth looking into it. As is looking at who wasn’t in the area during the crucial time. It could help us to eliminate those people.”
“We don’t know if this is an individual or a group. I don’t think we can discount anyone,” Fiero says. “And we still haven’t resolved the current supply issue.”
“We have some backup supplies,” Massimo says. “Use those and contact Juan Pablo at the plant to determine how much stock is on hand. Tell him to hire more workers to produce double our next shipment.” The president turns to look at me. “How fast can you get a ship to Buenaventura?”
“Our regular schedule is operational, but it’ll be six days before the next liner docks in Colombia.” We have ships sailing all the time because it’s a seven-day trip each way, and it’s the only option to ensure we receive biweekly deliveries. “We’ll have to look at other transportation options.”
“Vegas has their own airline now,” Cristian says, but it’s not news to anyone sitting at this table.
Massimo shakes his head. “I don’t want Cruz anywhere near this.”
No one contests his assertion. None of us trust Cristian’s older brother—the residing don in Vegas—and our suspicion is warranted. Cristian is a good man, but the same cannot be said of Cruz DiPietro.
“Leave it with me,” I say. “I’ll see if I can come up with some transport options.”
“Let’s put that issue aside for now. We are back to square one with the main issue, and we need to find evidence to pin this on Liam so Diarmuid can deal with him officially.”
“I say we just take him out.” Caleb shrugs while inspecting his nails. “I’ll do it. You need to keep your hands clean,” my twin tells our ex-gun-for-hire president.
“We can’t take action without evidence, and it’s not our responsibility to handle.” I turn in my chair to face my brother. “It’s O’Hara’s. If we step on his toes, it could ruin the relationship we’ve spent years cultivating and fuel the entire Irish operation to act against us.”
“Let them. We outnumber them in all areas. It would be their funeral.” My brother is the only man around this table who will celebrate if we end up at war.
“We’re not assassinating McDermott,” Massimo says. “At least not yet.”
“I have another idea. One I think has a greater chance of success.” Every pair of eyes in the room settles on me. “We send in a female informant this time. Liam is a known ladies’ man. Let’s send someone to seduce him into giving up his secrets.”
“I think it could work,” Mazzone agrees.
Fiero’s brows knit together. “You cannot be thinking who I’m thinking.”
“You know any other woman more capable?”
There are more opportunities for women within mafioso circles these days, but most opt for roles in our businesses rather than being initiated. But there are exceptions.
Caleb slams his hands down on the table and grins. “She is fucking perfect. She’s got the looks, the body, the smarts, and the skills to protect herself.”
“You’re forgetting one vital thing,” Fiero supplies. “My consigliere will never allow it.”
“He won’t have a choice,” Massimo says, grimacing a little in understanding. I’m sure he’s thinking of his daughter and empathizing with Rico as a father. But that can’t play a part in this decision. “Rico knew what was involved when she agreed to become one of our informants. This is why we allowed women into the program.”
“We can’t talk about equality and then balk at the first real test,” Cristian says.
“Shit.” Fiero slumps in his chair. “You’re right.”
“She’ll want to do this.” If I have gauged her personality correctly, she will be champing at the bit for this assignment. There will be no greater opportunity to prove her worth. She won’t turn it down.
“Elisa will have your balls,” Mazzone says, his lips twitching.
“That is the least of my concerns.” I have very little to do with his niece or her friend.
“Caleb can take one for the team if she throws a hissy fit,” Cristian jokes.
Caleb narrows his eyes as Ben jabs his finger in my twin’s direction. “Do not even think about it. I will riddle you with bullets if you as much as touch a hair on her head. Elisa is far too good for you.”
I fix Ben with a sharp look. He knows how my brother operates, so why would he throw down the gauntlet so blatantly?
“Wow, look at that,” Caleb says, leaning back in his chair and smirking at our uncle. “We finally agree on something.”
“Enough snarking like bitches,” Massimo snaps, shooting Ben and Caleb a warning look. “Do I need to remind anyone of the seriousness of the situation? Enemies are snapping at our heels, and we’re wasting time. Fiero, call Rico and set up a second meeting for tomorrow. Let’s put the proposal to Gia Bianchi and see what she says.”