Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
EMILIANO
I lean against the door and hear the faint click of the lock turning. A small smile dances on my face before I wipe it away and call Romiro.
“Get the jet ready. We’re leaving soon,” I tell him as I take the stairs two at a time.
“Where are we going now?” he whines.
“Back to New York City, or did you forget that I called for a mandatory meeting back at the OX?” It wouldn’t be the first time Romiro had forgotten our little sessions. I guess he likes to block them from his memory.
He sighs and replies, “Bro, Eli, my friend, and boss. I would like to take a holiday.”
I laugh at his tone.
“You knew what you were getting into,” I tell him lightly. Being a Capo isn’t the easiest job in the world and you need to have some people you trust around you. It is what it is.
“So, is that a yes?” he asks with a fake high-pitched voice. It irritates my ear to the point that I have to move my phone away for a second.
“Fuck no. See you outside.” I end the call and slip my phone in my pocket.
I spot Mara sitting on one of the armchairs in the library on the second floor as I walk past it. I can tell she’s seen me, but she doesn’t turn her head to look at me.
“Mara, are you-”
She cuts me off before I can finish.
“I know, Eli. I know I messed up and there will be consequences when you get the time. I don’t need a reminder. I’m eighteen, but I can barely breathe without someone telling you.” Her face is set in a scowl, her voice full of frustration.
Taking a breath, I sit on the edge of the mahogany table a few feet from where she’s sat.
“Listen. Mara, I know that all the attention from Matteo, Lucio, Ma, and me is quite a lot, but we’re only doing it to make sure you stay safe. Our enemies will try anything to hurt us. They think the way to do that is you and Ma,” I tell her, and her shoulders sag a little. I reach my hand to rub her arm.
“Wasn’t Dad enough?” she asks. I close my eyes as my chest starts to ache.
“Carissima, when power and corruption go hand in hand, death is the only price that is enough, but Dad’s death didn’t eliminate the Camorra and they won’t stop until they do. I understand that Dad’s death hit you very hard, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stand by and watch you endanger yourself.”
“I want to go back to New York. I have schoolwork to finish, and I miss my friends. New York is our home. We’ve spent too much time in New Hampshire, and for what?”
I shake my head when she finally looks up at me.
“No, I can’t have you in New York. Not yet. And you know we’ve been in New Hampshire for the family's safety.”
“But it’s been three months. You can’t expect us to hide in fear for the rest of our lives,” she argues. The corners of my eyes tighten, and I tip her chin up with two fingers.
“Mara, I may be your brother, but I am still Capo, and what I do is for the family and for the Camorra.” I stand up, signaling the end of the conversation.
“You know, Eli, I remember when we were younger, and you used to say that you’d never want to be like Dad, but here you are, doing whatever you see as right without taking other people into consideration,” Mara mumbles to my back. I freeze, my muscles tense. But I roll my shoulders, not turning around.
“Dad wasn’t wrong in the things he did; it was all to protect the family,” I finally say.
“No. Dad did whatever he could to protect the Camorra. He chose the Camorra over Ma, over us. I just hope you don’t do the same.” Her rebuttal is harsh. The sound of a book page being turned fills the space. My cue to leave.
When my feet touch the gravel of the courtyard, I spot Romiro talking to Matteo near my car.
“The next fight needs to be soon, or else the bidders will pull out.” I catch the end of Matteo’s sentence when I’m close enough. My eyebrows pull together as I come to a halt between them.
“We have a fight tonight. Why would the bidders pull out?” I direct the question at Romiro, whose face is set in a frown.
“Both of our two big fighters have backed out and so did the other four,” he explains. I run my tongue across my teeth.
“Have they been dealt with?” I ask him, and Romiro nods.
“Find replacements for the five. I’ll fill in for one of them,” I tell Matteo. He keeps his lips tight and nods once before he heads back to the house.
Romiro, on the other hand, of course, has something to say. “Eli, come on. You can’t fight tonight.” I don’t reply to him until we’re both in the car and are driving toward the large gates at the end of the property.
“Rom, I don’t need you to tell me what I can and can’t do.” Everyone thinks they can tell me what the fuck I can do. Fuck, I have enough of it from my ma and now everyone else is on my ass like it’s a fucking trend. I pull out the cigarette packet from my suit pocket and flip the lid open.
“I thought you quit smoking,” Romiro comments. I wait until I pull a cigarette out of the packet with my lips before deciding to reply.
“I had a couple after Alberto’s death.” Pops isn’t Pops when I’m with Rom. He knows why. We both do. He failed to protect the family more than once, even if he tried his best. He put the Camorra first.
I keep one hand on the steering wheel as I light the cigarette and slip the lighter into the cup holder. Romiro takes the cigarette from my hand after I have a couple of puffs and takes a drag himself.
“I thought you didn’t smoke?” My voice is teasing as I snatch the cigarette back from him. A small smile tugs on his lips as he rests his head on the headrest behind him.
“Yeah. I didn’t for a couple of years. Remember when I told you about Nicolo walking in on me smoking, and he was so mad that he took the packet and just didn’t speak to me for two days. The dude just iced me out,” he recounts with his eyes closed. A laugh leaves his mouth as he sits back up.
“Yeah, you were so pissed that you couldn’t get a reaction out of him, that you thought it was a good idea to stay out late. I can still remember the way he was looking at you when he came to get you from our house,” I say, as Romiro takes the cigarette from my hand and takes the last puff before lowering his window to throw it out.
“I nearly pissed myself from how scared I was,” he says. Nicolo had never laid his hands on Romiro, and he wouldn’t do that even when Romiro acted up. Their parents had done enough damage.
“So, how’s it going with you and beauty?”
My lips curl at the idea that anything could be going on between me and that brat.
“Nothing’s going on. Tell me, has Costa sent an update on the murders?” I try to change the subject, and Romiro gives me a knowing look, telling me that he knows what I’m doing.
“Nah, he’s been radio silent since he’d come to meet you,” Romiro says. I nod, and we fall into a comfortable silence.
It doesn’t take us long to get to the private airport, where the jet is usually parked. Romiro winks at one of the flight attendants as we pass them to go to our seats. He gives me a cocky grin before he heads toward the back of the jet, where two rooms are located. My nose scrunches up in disgust, and I turn on some music to blast through the jet's speaker system when the flight attendant follows him. I can hear his laugh when the music plays.
* * *
Romiro comes out of the room, looking like a freshly fucked king before we’re due to land in ten minutes, and sits in his seat, giving me a smug smile. I shake my head at him.
“You use protec-” I ask, but he cuts me off.
“Do I look stupid?” he asks. I cock my head to the side and feel the corners of my mouth lift.
“Is that meant to be a trick question? And yes, you do look stupid enough to forget about a condom.”
He flips me off and takes out his phone as he leans back.
“You know what they say birds of a feather are the same.” He shrugs.
My face scrunches at the half wrong proverb. “It’s birds of a feather flock together, you fucking asshole.”
“You got what I meant, so that’s all that matters.”
“Are you saying that your Capo is stupid?” My voice holds no edge to it. He's my brother and I’m his. Whether I’m Capo or not is irrelevant. He yawns and stretches one of his arms before looking at me.
“Bro, do you hear how stupid some of the shit that comes out of your mouth is? Sometimes I think I might actually piss myself laughing.”
“Fuck off and stop trying to be a clown,” I tell him. He pulls a face, which takes me a second to realize that he’s trying to look upset.
“Do you think I can still make it into clown college?” Romiro asks. For fuck’s sake, this dude is meant to be my advisor, and he’s joking about going to fucking clown college.
“There’s a thing such as clown college? What the fuck would they even learn?”
Romiro’s face turns serious as he starts his own description of a clown school.
“On day one, it’d probably be makeup. You know, it’s important to nail down the pasty white shade for the base, the way to properly draw the lips of a professional clown and, of course, to perfect the arches of the clown. I suppose they would also teach them how to make people laugh without saying a word.” He continues to look at me with a serious expression. We both start laughing, my sides cramping. We’re able to compose ourselves before the seat belt light turns on and the pilot asks for permission to land in New York.
By the time we are off the jet, our faces turn to stone. We are the Capo and his advisor now. Benedicto is by the car to discuss the shipments. The drive back to the OX is spent discussing new routes for our new shipment.
“No. I want them to be distributed through six different routes. Alberto wasn’t careful in the eighties and that got one of our cousins twenty years. So, they’ll be distributed through the six different routes at different times,” I tell Benny.
“I’ll contact the guys and tell them to set up the six different trucks. They won’t be loaded until an hour before they are due to leave the property,” Benny says as he nods.
Romiro speaks up. “We don’t want another near run-in with that fucker Damian again.”
A bitter taste fills my mouth. Damian Barak, the bane of my fucking existence and the pain in every made man’s ass. The Momfucker has been trying to steal our suppliers for years now.
Our car comes to a halt outside the OX and we get out of the car. The parking lot is packed with more than a dozen cars. I straighten my suit jacket as Romiro comes around to stand beside me. A hush falls over the place when we walk through the door. My men are scattered around the bar, each of them either holding a drink or smoking.
All eyes are on us. On me.
“Basement. Now!” I shout, my voice loud enough to echo. We watch them as they all scatter to go down the spiral staircase. Everyone follows the order, and Romiro laughs as he shakes his head.
“It never ceases to amaze me how they all scram like fucking rats, but always have shit to say behind the family’s back.”