Chapter 36
FRANCISCO
Giovanni fills me in on everything that has been going on in my absence. Some of these things require a face-to-face conversation, so he wasn’t able to keep me properly informed while I was in Italy.
“I appreciate you looking out for the family,” I say at the conclusion of our talk.
I put a hand on his shoulder to make sure he understands just how valuable his contribution is.
Giovanni shakes his head. “I’m glad you’re back. Being the boss doesn’t suit me.”
“You wear it well,” I observe. “Maybe someday.”
“The only way that would happen is if you were killed,” he reminds me. “So I’ll just take my pension and be happy with that.”
We laugh because there is no pension in our line of work. But there is the potential for great wealth. I want to change after the flight. My suit isn’t as pristine as I would like it to be, and I welcome the idea of a shower.
Giovanni performs his last half hour as boss while I get settled. I arrive back in my office, clean and energized. Even though I’ve been up for more than twelve hours, I’m ready to get down to business. I need to let everyone know sooner rather than later that I’m back at the helm.
I make a few calls while Giovanni sits in one of my office chairs, sipping scotch. There’s a knock on the door, and Giovanni gets up to answer it. Marcello steps into the room, giving me a deferential nod as he takes a seat to wait for me to finish my telephone conversation.
I hang up, glancing over at him. Now we’re ready to talk, so I open the floor.
“What were you able to find out about Marlena’s brother?” I ask.
“Not a lot,” Marcello admits.
“We didn’t get a ransom demand, and we haven’t been able to confirm that Andretti has him,” Giovanni fills me in.
I shake my head. “Something’s not right.”
“If you don’t mind my asking,” Marcello begins. “Why are we spending so much time looking for some college kid who’s probably just out on a bender?”
I glare at him. He’s being incredibly insensitive. Although that’s usually not a handicap in my organization, at this moment, I wish he would show a little more concern.
“Brandon is my wife’s brother,” I explain.
“Your wife?” Marcello repeats, astonished.
“Yes,” I reply. “You knew I was engaged.”
“No, I didn’t,” he says.
“Well,” I answer, filling him in even though I thought everyone was up to speed. “I’m married. We had our wedding in Italy.”
“When were you going to tell me?” Marcello asks, acting as if I owe him something.
“You’re dangerously close to stepping out of line,” Giovanni warns him.
Marcello doesn’t stop. He continues going at me as if he’s got the right to berate me in my home. “Why would you do that knowing her background?”
“Did you notice all the fresh troops?” I ask, almost amused by his consternation.
“Yeah, but I thought they were just family,” Marcello says.
“They are family,” I reply. “Her family. The Roccas and the Corellos are now one and the same. We’re legally joined through our marriage, and anyone who messes with one of us, messes with all of us.”
“The problem is that I can’t confirm it’s Andretti,” Giovanni says.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s Andretti,” Marcello complains. “The Roccas are unhinged. You don’t want them in your family. What were you thinking?”
I cross around the desk to get up in Marcello’s face. He’s pushing his agenda a little bit too hard, and I want to nip it in the bud. “If you insult the Roccas, you insult me.”
“You’re crazy,” Marcello continues, oblivious to my threat. “You’ve made a big mistake.”
I’m thinking he wants a fight. Why else would he keep pushing the envelope? He’s been a loyal soldier for as long as I can remember. Why is he suddenly so averse to my marriage?
“Don’t mistake our friendship for permission to say whatever the hell you want,” I tell him.
“Friendship?” he snaps. “You should have told me what you were up to.”
“It wasn’t a secret,” I say. “I distinctly remember you were in the room when I explained who Marlena was.”
“Yeah, I knew who she was, but I didn’t know you were going to marry her,” Marcello claims.
“You knew,” Giovanni tells him, looking bored with the argument already.
“You’re taking this family to hell in a handbasket,” Marcello swears.
That’s it. I’ve had enough. I slam my fist into his face and feel a satisfying pop when his nose breaks.
Marcello stumbles back, finally aware that he’s taken things a step too far.
He presses a hand to his nose, but I can still see the blood leak out.
His eyes begin to water, but I know that’s just a biological reaction.
“You’re going to be sorry,” Marcello stammers.
“Is that a threat?” I ask him. If he’s threatening me, I’ll put him in the ground. I don’t care about our history or all the things he’s done for me in the past. Business is business, and I can’t have anyone around me who won’t follow orders.
Marcello doesn’t answer. If he realizes that we’ve come to a crossroads, he doesn’t say. Instead, he reaches for the door. I let him go. I owe him that much. Hopefully, he’ll go somewhere to think about what he’s done and come back apologetic.
I realize that my marriage may not be conventional.
I didn’t have a long engagement or invite any of my close associates.
It happened quickly, and maybe that’s what Marcello’s problem is.
I can’t help but feel that he’s acting like a teenage girl.
He wasn’t invited to the festivities, and so he’s lashing out.
I hope that’s it, although I don’t appreciate the drama. Something about his anger gives me pause. It feels like it was misdirected, as if my marriage to Marlena isn’t the real culprit. If he’s angry about something else, I don’t know what it is.
I consider asking Giovanni to follow up, but then I dismiss the notion. I’ve known Marcello for too long. Whatever’s eating at him, I’m sure it will come up in the course of regular conversation. I don’t need to go digging for it.
Besides, I have more important things to worry about. If Andretti hasn’t asked for a ransom for Marlena’s brother, then he must have something else in mind. I don’t like the man, but I respect him. He wouldn’t make a move like that without considering all the angles.
If he intends to kill Brandon to get revenge, that’s one thing.
But Giovanni said he hadn’t found a body yet.
It would make no sense to kill someone without broadcasting it.
In my line of work, there are two reasons for murder: One is that you want someone to go away quickly and quietly.
Those are the bodies that are dumped at the reservoir or buried out in the woods where no one will find them.
But other murders are committed to send a message. Those are the ones that are personal, that have to do with family and honor. And in that case, you want people to know. Those bodies are left in parking lots or living rooms to show others that no one is safe.
If Andretti took Brandon out of revenge for the sins of Marlena’s father, I would expect the body to show up. But it hasn’t yet, which tells me that Brandon is still alive. And if Andretti isn’t asking for money, he must have some other motive.
There’s another knock on the door, and since I’m up already, I go to answer it. I shake out my fist. There’s a bit of blood on my knuckles, and I can’t tell if it’s mine or Marcello’s.
Luca is standing in the hallway. I let him in as I walk back to my desk to grab a tissue. Wiping the blood off, I can see that I’m not wounded. There might be some bruising, and it hurts a little to make a fist, but I’ll get over it. This getting-old crap is for the birds.
“Who’s the goon with the broken nose?” Luca complains.
“That’s Marcello,” I respond. “He insulted Marlena and her family, but he’ll get over it.”
“Ah, I wasn’t sure I recognized him with all that blood all over his face. But are you sure he’ll get over it?” Luca asks suspiciously. “He was cursing your name pretty loudly.”
I frown. It’s one thing to raise concerns to my face, but something else entirely to go around talking behind my back. One thing I can respect, the other feels like cowardice. I wouldn’t have pegged Marcello for a coward, although I did just hit him.
“He’ll get over it,” I repeat.
Luca shrugs. I can tell that he’s still worried, but unwilling to push any further. I like him, and I’m glad that he’s here. It gives me one more partner in crime other than Giovanni, since it seems I can’t count on Marcello at the moment.