6. — the only one on time. #3
Nico chewed on his inner cheek at the flippant comment. He meant what he said, but he wasn’t blind or stupid, either. Francesca turned eighteen in two weeks and whenever he ran into her, she had his full attention.
ADHD or not.
“You should know, however,” Salvatore said, breaking through Nico’s thoughts, “I will know the moment that changes.”
“Huh?”
“The second something becomes about my daughter, Nico. I will know.”
The man offered nothing else.
Not—don’t. No warnings, threats.
Nothing.
I will know.
Nico glanced at the third folder again. “So, what is that?”
“Your next steps but on my terms.”
Nico sat at the ready, waiting to hear it.
Salvatore flipped the file open, and then turned it around, offering it to Nico. After taking it, he also caught the phone with his other hand that quickly flew through the air without any warning.
“You’re going to have to be fast like that for some of those guys,” Salvatore noted, gesturing at the file.
Nico glanced down.
He read the basic scope out of a crew that worked out of New Jersey. The write-up included various joints the crew owned, what they were handling through drugs, counterfeit sales, and more. He recognized Big Mike’s restaurant in the list of connected businesses.
“It’s not good enough for you to third-hand score drugs from a relative who’s connected and make profit,” Salvatore said, clearly going back to what he promised earlier.
“Not if you intend to go for your button. You pay dues whether you are crew or not, whether you’re made or not. It’s respect, and you know this.”
“It was play money.”
“You’re right,” Salvatore agreed, “but it’s also an in. Think about it. You drain three hundred grand out of your account, walk it into Big Mike, and see where it goes. Whether or not he keeps you, the money stays. That’s how you need to move, Nico. That’s the respect.”
“I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Why would you? You were just playing.” Salvatore lifted one shoulder as if to shrug it all off. “Now it’s time to go for the big guns. No more playing.”
“Did you put in any calls—”
“Trust me, I don’t have to. Big Mike is the kind of capo that does his homework. You walk into his joint, and he’s going to know the last time you shit before nightfall. He will do his own digging. Let the rest speak for itself.”
Nico thought about it, but another concern popped up. “What about the territory? Big Mike’s runs along Anthony Carcoli’s. He’s my brother’s best friend.”
A few years older than Marco, though. Also, a made man through inheritance. That just made Nico hate the asshole more. He didn’t deserve a spot at the table because his daddy died. Plenty of others could have run that crew just as well as Carcoli’s puke son.
“Finally,” Salvatore said, smiling, “I’ve got the conversation where I want it. You see the issue, yes? Marco.”
Nico frowned. “I haven’t seen Marco in a long time, Sal.”
“I did. Right before he ran us off the road.”
At once, Nico understood. He figured out why Salvatore had been so quiet for the last two weeks. That gun on the table made sense, too.
“Marco ran you off the road,” Nico said, feeling like an echo.
“Well, that’s your father’s business now. Apparently.”
“I hope you don’t trust Giorgio to handle it even the slightest bit, if at all.”
“I do not. That’s why I informed you.”
“I guess I don’t understand why I needed to know, but—”
“Because he meant it to be you,” Salvatore intoned.
“This isn’t even the fourth time” Nico muttered.
Salvatore’s gaze softened. “Yes, I do remember something like this happened before.”
“Oh, what’s your favorite? Mine’s when he gave me alcohol poisoning at six during a Christmas party, and I vomited all through the house until I passed out. First time getting my stomach pumped, fun times.”
“None of it. It all horrified me. Especially the time he wrapped you in a duvet and duct taped your head and neck before throwing you in a closet. We got that tape off just to find you blue. Carina cried.”
Nico sat up straighter as discomfort settled in.
“I had brothers, too. Once,” Salvatore added, his tone rougher. “They’re dead now, and we fought, too. We were...competitive about most everything. It just wasn’t the same with you and Marco, but your father wouldn’t hear it.”
Nico sniffed hard, swallowing back the emotion lodging in his throat. “Right, well, is Marco a discretionary thing for me?”
“Pardon?”
“My brother. Is that a discretionary thing like we talked about? You said I could use my discretion about people and things to determine whether your rules come into play.”
That conversation happened a few days after their initial talk on Salvatore’s rules, but it mattered to Nico.
“Very discretionary, given the situation,” Salvatore informed.
“Good to know.”
Salvatore folded his arms over his chest. “The phone is new, but I’m sure you can tell.
The number for it is with everything else in there somewhere.
Larkin is good at keeping things organized for me.
You have full access to the estate, do not abuse it.
And I expect over the next couple of months you will work toward finding your own place closer to wherever you find yourself working. ”
“I still answer to you?”
“Everyday of your life until I, or someone else, says otherwise.”
He didn’t like what that implied.
“Could my father—”
“Be one less problem, Nico,” Salvatore interjected. “For everyone, for your own damn sake.”
He’d keep it mind.
“Uh, is it my turn now?” Nico asked.
“For what?”
“You said you’d answer my question about when you started keeping a gun if I was honest.”
“And you don’t forget a deal. You already have the answer. It’s a recent development.”
“Marco.”
“Marco,” Salvatore echoed. “I’ll give you another question, if you feel the need. Just to keep things fair between us.”
“How about two? That’ll make it three, for three folders, if you really want it to be fair.”
A chuckle rumbled across the table.
“Shoot,” Salvatore murmured.
“Are you high?” Nico asked, right out with it.
Salvatore froze in his seat. “Excuse me?”
“I heard Carina. She said opiates—”
“Hear less, Nico.”
“Right, but she said—”
“She’s wrong,” Salvatore snapped. “And what happens between my wife and I in private is none of your concern. Including the things we say to one another. You can’t possibly know the context of that conversation, or why she said it in the first place.
If you’re asking because you are concerned, don’t. ”
“Okay,” Nico replied.
He wouldn’t push it. Except...
“Frankie’s got games. You should be there.”
“I will be.”
“Third question, then?”
“It depends. Now you’re working my last nerve, Nico.”
“I’m good at that.”
“You bet, kid.”
“Anyway, can I go?”
Salvatore’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Frankie’s upcoming games. Can I go? She asked me, so...”
Silence filled the study.
Salvatore stared.
Nico waited.
“She asked Carina, too,” Salvatore said to himself.
“I think she wants to see familiar faces when she looks out from the field. People that mean something to her.”
Salvatore’s gaze slammed into him again. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Don’t repeat that back to yourself too many times, okay?”
Just because Salvatore said not to, Nico did it.
It took him five times.
He meant something.
To her.