other. The first one set the tone for the rest. My grandfather sprawled on the cement in New York, his mouth open, a salvo of bullet wounds through his chest in many different spots.
The photographs were taken from many different angles. Some of his men were beside him in death. One draped over the car. Another one on the cement, his head separated into two parts.
One of his underbosses, who also doubled as a bodyguard, should have been with him—and it wasn’t me.
I lifted the folder and only then realized that Tito had his hand on my shoulder, squeezing. “His life was not meant to end this way,” he said. “I always assumed it would be in the penitentiary, if anything, but not this.”
I nodded, bringing the folder down. I opened it up again, removing a photograph. I didn’t recognize the place. “Where?”
Tito cleared his throat. “Macchiavello’s.”
I searched my memory of all of the places I knew in the city, and remembered. It was a haunt for some high-powered officials, rich housewives, and made men. In between them, regular folks who wanted to try what the entire city, it seemed like, raved about. The steak and the fancy booze. I wasn’t a man who ate out often. No one cooked like my Nonna, and now, my wife.
I cleared my throat. “It was a setup.”
Tito shook his head. “As far as I am concerned, it was a legitimate meeting. I set it up myself. He was ambushed on the way out. I had no idea.”
“The commission,” I said.
The commission was the ruling body of the organization, so to speak. It was set up so that the organization would have rules to follow. Some rules had harsher punishment than others if broken.
If four out the five bosses did not agree to have a boss killed, the idea was vetoed. If someone didn’t listen, and still had that boss killed, it was punishable by death.
I had a hard time believing the other four bosses voted to have my grandfather killed. This was not a life where friends were valued—a friend today, a man you made into a corpse tomorrow—but two of the other bosses considered my grandfather a man worth looking up to.
Tito shook his head. “They did not agree to this. The commission is discussing how to go about dealing with what happened. It was unsanctioned.”
“Silvio is going to lie,” I said. “He did it, and he wouldn’t have made a move unless he felt some people out before he did. Made sure he had some backing.”
Tito fixed his glasses and crossed his legs. I could tell he was thinking. “Rumors spread quickly after something like this happens. It has been whispered that Silvio ordered it, but he will not admit to it. Not unless he has a death wish.” He studied me for a moment.
“The famiglia voted in your absence. It is the general consensus among his men that you did not earn this position. That your grandfather gave it to you. It's not enough, though. The majority of the men voted you in. Which means, if the vote does not eat at him, jealousy will.”
Both factions were Silvio’s now, but the entire family belonged to me.
“Carmine is speaking to each boss,” Tito said. “He is briefing them on the conversation the four of us had in your grandfather’s office on the day of your cousin’s wedding. Just to make the situation clear. Though it really does not matter. You earned the vote.”
I nodded. My grandfather wanted to make his wishes clear. Not only did he invite his own consigliere into the meeting that day, but one of the most well-known advisors in history.
Tito Sala. He was the consigliere to one of the most infamous bosses of bosses Italy had ever seen. Marzio Fausti.
Tito was married to Marzio’s sister, Lola, and as such, was Marzio’s closest council. It was usually someone in the family, or a close friend, who was chosen for these roles.
It was almost an unspoken rule that a consigliere be Sicilian, or at least Italian. It was important to choose someone trusted.
There was no one as trusted as Tito Sala. He gave his honest, unbiased opinion, whether accepted or not.
“You will have to return to New York,” Tito continued. “To claim what is rightfully yours. I also think it wise to have a sit-down with Silvio. There are men who voted for him to become boss in your absence. If the commission decides not to act, since he