go the hell away. Eventually, he sighs and changes tact. “So business is going well … with the King Kong.”
I flinch, but then nod, trying to mask it. “So you’ve heard about it.”
“You seem surprised,” he says. “Were you trying to hide it from me?”
I feign a laugh. “Never, Father. The last time a man tried to hide something from you, he ended up in three separate pieces. One to the piranhas, one to the pigs, and one to the—let me think—ah, yes, the wood-chipper.”
He scowls at me. “You sound proud.”
I chuckle. “How could I not be? It certainly sent a message.”
Suddenly, Father leans forward. “Do you think I took any pleasure in that? That man was an asset, and if I could’ve punished him in a less severe way, I would have. But then other men would think they could get away with hiding a portion of my profits from me. Then what? So I had to punish him, mio figlio. It was a calculated financial decision. It wasn’t revenge. It wasn’t anger.”
“Why do I get the feeling that a lecture is coming?” I turn back to the night with a heavy sigh.
He shrugs and opens his notebook, returning to his sketching. I just keep staring out at the night as the car drifts through the city. But I can feel Father simmering next to me. I know that I haven’t avoided the lecture, only put it off. After about half an hour, he finally speaks.
“Perhaps you need a lecture now more than ever,” he says firmly. “I am proud of you for taking the initiative with the Bostonians. You have not only formed an alliance, but made a business deal that will profit everybody. But what happens when a shipment goes missing, or you find somebody skimming a few grams?”
“You know what happens then.”
“Yes—you overreact. You punish them viciously. And this man’s friends and brothers and uncles, they decide they want revenge. So you start a war over a few measly bags.”
“It’s better than being disrespected,” I argue, but my words sound weak.
“Respect,” Father says. “Look at me, Angelo.”
Reluctantly, I turn to him. The car pulls up outside Father’s brownstone. “You have to give respect to earn respect, my son.”
“I respect you,” I say. “I respect the Family.”
He shakes his head. “No, not that. I mean, you must respect that your consequences have actions. You must respect that your enemies are just as deadly and capable as you. You must respect that no matter how powerful, a man can always have everything taken from him at a moment’s notice.”
My phone buzzes loudly. Father’s eyes flit to my pocket where it is. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”
“It can wait.”
He smiles almost sadly. “Business never waits.”
I pull out my phone and answer it. It’s Levi, ranting. “Albanians just hit a stash house in Queens. You know, the one we were using after the shit’d been cut.”
“What?” I say in alarm. “When?”
“When we were at the warehouse. I just got word.”
“Okay, just wait there. We’ll deal with this.”
I hang up to find Father looking at me, waiting for me to tell him what happened. When I don’t, he says, “Is everything okay? I was expecting we’d have dinner together.”
“Everything’s fine,” I lie. “Nothing I can’t handle. But I have to go.”
He raises his hands, as if to accept the lie. But he knows it’s a lie, make no mistake. Carlo De Maggio can never be called gullible. “Think about what I’ve said,” he concludes. “This is a brave new venture, Angelo. But if you do not respect that it could turn south at any moment, it has already failed.”
I nod, thinking about the Albanians, wondering what sound Dujar will make when I finally find his fat neck and throttle him to death.
19
Dani
Two days later, as I once again ride the executive elevator up to Angelo’s penthouse apartment, I remind myself that I’m doing this for Wyatt.
We got word the day after I made the deal that the investigation into Wyatt’s drug possession was being dropped. The administrator on the phone even sounded apologetic, as though she was scared of me or something. It was strange and it got me wondering all over again who the hell Angelo really is.
As the elevator door opens, and I walk down the imposing hallway past the statues and paintings that probably cost more than my apartment, I remember the goofy way Wyatt jumped around my bedroom when he heard the news. I sat him