Chapter 4
four
Three weeks in this town. Three weeks of near radio silence from Matteo as to what’s going on within my organization. Last night I received a text.
Nothing else, no number, no name. Outside of the associates I have in this town, no one but Teo knows I’m in South Carolina. Maneuvering my black Lexus through the back roads towards the beach, I force myself to believe it will be him meeting me this morning.
I tried to choose my least ostentatious car when I left, but this is still a two door, luxury sports car. I may be the most business minded Arsenio to lead the family in decades, but we’ve all had our vices.
My great-grandfather’s was the drink. He couldn’t stay sober long enough to form a business alliance or make a decision that moved the family forward.
My grandfather’s downfall was gambling. He did a decent job hiding it for a long time, spending his personal fortune before dipping into the organization’s money to pay off his debts.
That behavior eventually led to his demise.
My father, arguably the biggest traitor of them all depending on who you ask, his indulgence was beautiful women.
Even after he met my mother, there were still dozens of women.
He would call it an appreciation for the beauty in this life.
I just call it whoring. Out of the four children he fathered, only I am legitimate, and none of us are purely Italian, the way Fortuna Nera would’ve preferred it.
Ultimately, what can you expect from an organization whose name literally means black luck?
I pull into the barren parking lot and see Teo’s Ducati parked at the edge of the pier.
Glancing down the boardwalk, I see him standing at the end, where the ledge extends high over the water.
Waves crash against the posts below, their ferocity foreshadowing what’s to come during the impending conversation.
Parking, I walk down to him, the railings and benches along the edges showing weathered wood, the exposure to salt air and time wearing them down.
Sometimes, I feel as though my soul looks the same on the inside.
I’m far from elderly, but my mind and body have lived a thousand lives in my nearly forty years.
The sky ahead blends softly between blues and pinks, the sun barely rising over the sea.
“Teo,” I say, clasping him on the shoulder.
He turns, his stern expression breaking when he sees me. Matteo is my oldest and most trusted friend. He pulls me into a one-armed hug, and I notice the yellowish-purple bruise healing under his left eye and the torn skin on his knuckles.
“Damn, it’s good to see you.” He blows out a breath, falling onto a bench nearby, dropping a folder next to him. “I brought you Illy Coffee. It’s the best I could do right now. I haven’t been home yet, but I should be going back in a few weeks. I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’m not worried about fucking coffee, Teo,” I grumble, dropping onto the bench next to him. “What happened to your face?”
He lights a cigarette, pulling a deep drag into his lungs, letting it linger, and then exhaling.
“Don’t worry about it. Wasn’t related to Fortuna business.” He smirks, and I glare at him.
“I thought you agreed to stop the fights?” I questioned.
“They’re more necessary now than ever. There’s so much tension in the ranks.
The boys are restless. Everyone is waiting for orders, Bash.
They need some way to channel that energy, or they’ll take it elsewhere.
You need to give them something to do. I’m just keeping them busy.
” Matteo flicks the cherry off the end of his cigarette and shoves the butt into his pocket.
“What’s in the folder?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the sunrise.
“Helo said it was a close family member who organized the Miami attack. It wasn’t hard to figure out which ones had access to all the right bank accounts, all the right safe houses. I’ve narrowed it down to three options.” he says, flipping through the information he’s gathered.
“Tell me. I can tell you which one has the balls it takes to take a shot at me.” I close my eyes, an ache already building in the space behind my eyes.
“Well, there’s Massimo. He’s definitely close enough. He’s got access to every accou-” he says, and I scoff.
“Definitely not. Massimo is still afraid to look me in the fucking eyes at family dinner, Teo. He calls me Mr. Arsenio, and I’m his first cousin.
He didn’t do this. Who’s the next option?
” Leaning my head back against the worn wood, I let the cool ocean breeze glide over my skin.
Part of me wishes I could jump off the end of this pier and let the waves carry my body out to sea.
Maybe someone would find me, maybe they wouldn’t. Either way, maybe I don’t fucking care anymore.
“Nico. He’s got the means. He had the opportunity. I know he’s got the fucking ambition. But does he have the balls? That I don’t know. I mean, he’s just a kid, but kids these days don’t have the kind of respect we did.” He suggests, cocking his head to the side.
“He’s barely 19, Teo. I know his father wishes he had been the oldest Arsenio brother and held the reins in this family.
But he wasn’t, and that was never an option for him,” I remind him.
Beginning to raise my voice, I continue, “There’s an order to things.
They’ve been done this way for a hundred years.
I didn’t create this hierarchy, Matteo. I didn’t ask for this responsibility.
” I pound my fist against the wood to punctuate every sentence until my knuckles crack.
Matteo doesn’t respond, knowing my fury is already balancing on a knifes edge.
“It’s not Nico. While Uncle Gio may not have the respect for me he should, he respects the family, the legacy. My father’s legacy. He would never tempt the fates that way, and his son would never make such a brash move without his permission and funding. Who does that leave?”
He says nothing, looking out over the horizon with his jaw clenched tightly. I don’t have to ask. We both know the truth. If I’m honest, I’ve known for years.
Luca. My closest cousin in age. His father is younger than mine by less than one year, and my father never let him forget it.
Luca and I have been in constant competition since birth.
He was beyond livid when I named Teo as my underboss, despite the fact Teo’s father had been my father’s underboss before him.
Luca felt the position belonged to him simply by birthright.
But I don’t play that game. In my world, you earn what you’re given.
Luca had his eye on my throne from the time we were old enough to know what power was.
If anything were to happen to me now, with no heir or named successor, the empire would be in his hands.
I don’t know why I didn’t immediately assume he was behind this.
Maybe I knew, and I just didn’t want to admit it.
Because admitting such things means a war is on the horizon.
His father will not yield, should I bring these betrayals to light.
He will go to his grave arguing his son is the rightful heir because he is purely Italian, and I am not.
The concept is so archaic, but it’s no mystery why he feels that way.
“You know what this will mean.” He lights another cigarette, the smoke billowing through the air around us.
“You know those things will kill you long before I let Luca fucking Arsenio destroy what we’ve built, Teo.” Leaning back, I cross my arms over my chest.
“The men need direction. You need to make some decisions before we leave here today.” He ashes his cigarette, flipping open the file and getting down to business.
“The New York office is hemorrhaging money. The Irish have been encroaching on our territory in several areas, pushing the limits, I believe. Trying to find a weak spot. We’ve got options for dealing with it.
I can tell you what I’d prefer, but it’s your choice. ”
“Send extra men, the ones who favor the fights, to New York. We will not pay them for the territory that already belongs to us. They will remember their place, or they will never see their mothers or their precious whiskey again. If the boys meet any resistance, burn the pubs on West and on 67th. I’ve been too cordial with Ronan Murphy.
If I need to remind him in blood, I will.
” Cracking my neck, the pain behind my eyes grows.
It’s always something in this fucking world.
“I’ll make sure it’s done. And you? How are you down here?” Matteo cuts his eyes to mine, and I look away, knowing my expression will give away how fucking miserable I am.
“It’s fine. I’m just ready for this to be sorted so I can go home.” I lie, knowing the repeated frigid cold showers are getting old very fast. “I need a favor from you, though.”
“Name it, boss.” He stands, shaking out his sleeves.
“I need you to give me everything you can find on Vanessa Diaz, my new landlord.” I smirk.
“We talking just the basics or blackmail material?” He asks, flicking his lighter open and setting the folder he brought on fire.
He holds it by one corner, watching the flames devour the pages. His eyes glaze over slightly, fixated on the orange and red flickering between us. Fucking pyro, he always has been.
“Everything you can find, Teo. Don’t burn down the pier in the meantime.” I slap him on the shoulder, and he drops the folder into the metal trash bin next to us.
The bin goes up in flames as we make our way back to the parking lot. Seems to be a metaphor for the way my shitshow of a life is going these days.
“Take care of yourself. I fucking hate leaving the city. I’d rather this shit be over soon.” He shakes my hand, swinging a leg over his Ducati and pulling his helmet down over his face.
“We shall see.”