4. Tito
4
TITO
A ll the papers are finalized between our businesses, and I watch Aria Peralta's family drive away from the church to head home and collect her things. It's absurd to me that she isn't ready to come straight to my house, but we aren't a typical couple and this isn't an average wedding. Business transactions are concluded in different methods, but that kiss was anything but business. I touch my lips and think of it again, how she didn't even resist me, the suppleness of her skin.
"Let's walk," my father says, and I fall into step next to him. His car awaits us at the curb, his driver having pulled up as the Peraltas left. His agreement with Hector Peralta may be binding, but I am merely playing a role, one that I am more than happy to play.
"She's tart," I tell him, using the best word I can think of to describe my blushing bride. Though I'll be the first to admit that the blush on Aria's cheeks isn't at all embarrassment or flattery. She's outraged and infuriated by this agreement, whether she was forced to participate or came willingly. I've never tasted more venom than on the lips of a coerced lover.
"Play nice and you'll end up owning the city, Tito." Father's driver opens the door for us, and we slide into the back seat side by side. Dad immediately lights a cigar, and the car begins to fill with smoke. I open the window when the door is shut and wait for him to start coughing again. He knows better, but he won't kick the habit.
"Their failure is inevitable. You and I both see that. But I'd like to move things along. I'm not waiting ten years for our agreement to be up to take them hostilely." I fold my hands in my lap and wait out the coughing fit as he dabs his mouth with a handkerchief. My mind has been spinning since he first mentioned the supposed alliance.
The Peraltas offer nothing in the way of help to our family. The Ramiro tribe is strong, boasting four hundred men, dozens of businesses grossing multi-million dollars per year, and dominating in terms of territory. The only thing Hector Peralta's family could begin to supply to us would be frontage, and even then, we could have just taken it.
"What are you thinking?" Dad sighs and then takes a drag of his cigar again, this time without the coughing fit. His lungs take a battering every time he lights up. It's a good example of what not to do.
I peer out the window as the car rolls down the street carrying us toward his house. I have a few hours to prepare myself before Aria arrives at my home, and now that the wedding is complete, I can begin to make moves. Our money will be in their accounts by the end of the day tomorrow, infusing their business with much-needed capital, and Aria will be in my home as a token of good faith. But I want more.
"I don’t know how I'm going to manage it all, but I'm going to drain them one way or another." I turn to him as he blows a stream of smoke out the window and chuckles.
"You're so wise, then? Don Hector is not a fool, Tito. He'll see you coming from a mile away." The cherry on the tip of the cigar glows a bright red as he sucks on it, then coughs a little before continuing. "He has made it very clear that his businesses will remain his. You will get some decision-making power, but he will have the final say. And he's not going to be intimidated or threatened by you. He's been in this game longer than we have. There is a binding contract of business." He pats his chest as he speaks, and indignance rises in my chest.
I've thought of this up one side and down the other relentlessly. Don Hector Peralta is a formidable enemy. That much is certain. But his son is not. If Jasper Peralta takes the helm of his family without being prepared, he will make foolish mistakes, overlook things he should be focused on, and otherwise fail to lead successfully. Taking over their organization will be like taking candy from a baby. Jasper will practically beg me to take the reins.
"I know what you're thinking but killing Hector Peralta isn't a good idea. Think about it. If and when it gets tracked back to you, you'll start a war with your allies. And the enemy of your enemy is your friend." He points two fingers at me, cigar pinched between them. "Don't think the Uhkovs aren't watching this alliance unfold. Peralta's demise would mean the Uhkovs and Peraltas join together, and who will fight against them then?"
I'm unsettled by his statement, but I do understand what he's getting at. If I anger the organization as a whole, they don't truly pose a threat to me. But If I anger them enough that my enemies take notice, I'll be buried. The Uhkovs aren't above befriending another syndicate in the city to take me out. Right now, we are kings, but it would only take a minor blunder to bring us down.
"I'm going to do it. I'll figure out how and when, but Hector Peralta's entire territory, his businesses, his trades, the frontage, all of it will be mine. And his men will either follow suit and align with the Ramiro family or they will be terminated.”
"And the heir?" Father asks, lowering his hand to his lap. His fingers shake, but it's not from the way the car rumbles over potholes. He's getting sicker by the day and refuses treatment now. I will be taking over more and more of the business on a daily basis, and I'm ready for that.
"Do you mean Jasper? He will fall in line like the rest. If he's well behaved, I'll give him a seat of honor at the gentlemen's meetings. If not, he's out. If you're meaning Aria's firstborn… Do you think I’ll ever let my son sit as the heir to another man's throne?" I scoff. "Not a chance in hell my son will ever run Peralta's organization unless he runs mine at the same time—as one unit. This city isn't big enough for two Italian Families. Hector has to know this. He's doing the right thing by coming to us, and he knows my plans. He has to see it. It's the only thing that makes sense. I will rule both families by year's end. You'll see."
The car continues its journey toward my father's home, and all I can do is revel in the fact that my life is about to change for the good.