Mercenary (Gangsters of New York #3) - Bella Di Corte Page 0,80
die for me. What gives worth to the things you will die for, if you are not willing to live for them, too?”
He grabbed my shoulders, moving me away some so he could see my face. He looked into my eyes. “I am who I am.”
I nodded. “Me, too.”
“What do you want from me then?”
“Your life more than your death.”
“You already have it,” he said, touching my stomach. He kissed me on the forehead and then pushed me away a little more. “Let’s go. I hate these fucking places.”
26
Corrado
“It feels like old times,” Uncle Carmine said, getting comfortable in the seat he had held for many years.
We were in my grandfather’s office in his home. I kept my finger up to the lace curtains, holding them back. My wife was out in the garden with my nonna and Brooklyn. Her dress showed the swell of her stomach. Her hands were underneath the smallish ball, and every so often, she would trace the shape with a finger.
“It does,” I said, but I refused to look away from her. I didn’t like the fucking way her light seemed to be dimming. It concerned me in a way that I had never understood before.
Uncle Carmine came to stand next to me. As my grandfather’s consigliere for many years, he was a man I had great respect for. He was wise, and even though my chosen consigliere, Francesco Di Pisa, was just as good, it was still wise to consult with the old timers who were left. Uncle Carmine knew what I was trying to bring back, the code as it used to be, and he supported me in doing it in accordance to the old ways.
“Your grandfather was worried about you marrying her,” he said. “He thought you’d lose your focus.”
“Only when she’s around,” I said. “I don’t bring my personal life into this life.”
“It’s just that she’s so beau—”
I looked at him and he closed his mouth. It was no secret that we were expected to marry the girl next door, ones we grew up with even, like Martina. Back in the day, virgins. My wife was fucking gorgeous, but she was a woman of great respect, and in any social situation, superior to any woman I’d ever known. It was the same in the bedroom.
I was a rarity in this life—a man who could be a gangster and a businessman—and so was she.
He sighed and took his seat again. “How long do we have?”
I stuck the curtain behind the holder, keeping it open, and checked my watch. “Fifteen minutes.”
“Fucking Silvio,” he said, growling. “He started this entire mess because of jealousy. Rules are like bones. We have them for a reason. If one man breaks them, it gives another man the right to do the same. Then what do we have? No body.”
I nodded. “It’s been a long time since our family has been at war from within.”
It took him a moment to answer. “Would you call this war?”
I thought about it for a minute. “Yeah, I would. Vito tried to take me out. He has men who back him. Any bloodshed is considered an act of war.”
“At least your men don’t have to go to the mattresses.” He took a sip of his drink and set it down. I heard the glass hit the table. “I’ll never forget my first time. I was a young man, and I’d never heard of such a thing.”
Yeah, in his day, going to the mattresses meant that all of the men had to stand together or risk getting caught alone. Nothing was worth leaving your crew for because alone, it was easier for the enemy to pick you off.
“I won’t allow it to get that far. Vito and his crew will be done for in a week.”
After Silvio’s underboss had tried to have me killed, the commission ruled that, again, it was unsanctioned, and he had no backing whatsoever. They had given Vito a pass after Silvio, but now he had run out of his nine lives. I was taking his men out one by one, until I got to him.
If anyone would go to the mattresses, it would be Vito and his crew. But they hadn’t. They had scattered like pigeons and were hiding out like the cowards they were.
“We’ll get to that in a few minutes,” I said. “But I want you to tell me about Vittorio Scarpone.”
“Skilled in warfare, and that’s all you need to know.”