Page 121 of Dark Alliance
Finn just shakes his head, that luxurious hair flowing back and forth.
Finn’s a good guy. If not for that deep scar across his cheek, he could pass for one of those men on Cat’s romance novels.Move over, Rex.
If I end up staying in New York City with Cat, I should ask for his hairdresser’s number.
Brody’s right. I probably should have my brain checked.
Outside, the thick clouds cast a gloomy-as-fuck mood over the area, and I’ve never been happier for a dreary winter day.
I gaze at the sky while Finn places the calls that will save Cat’s life.
Assuming we’re not too late.
Chapter 37
Caterina
After Carlo finds Danny in the garage and brings him up to speed, we pull up to Santo Duomo mid-funeral.
The church is over a century and a half old. With its Gothic architecture, it’s always come across as a smaller scale Notre Dame to me. Flying buttresses, a bell tower, intricate carvings on the exterior walls…
The three ornate, west-facing doors are sealed tight, but I know what’s behind them.
Inside, a full house to honor my father awaits. I imagine all the families are here to pay their respects. The Rossis, Leones, Nordis, di Nellis, and Giacomettis should all be in attendance.
It rips my heart right out of my chest to walk into my father’s funeral under these circumstances, but my appearance is crucial. If I expect to serve as the family’s true leader and earn the trust of the men who risk their lives for me, I can’t default to Nino while I wait for a more convenient time to seize the reins.
Carlo, Frankie, and Danny, along with four capos from the last meeting Nino held and six enforcers that work under them, are all prepared to follow me into the fire. Without a will, all I have is my word and the word of the beaten and bloodiedexecutor, but it was good enough for them. Hopefully, it’ll also be good enough for an entire congregation of mourners.
My newfound support system has watched Nino’s character devolve over the past few months, so it didn’t take much to convince them he killed our father.
I’m praying the attendees will come to understand that I’m destined to be the new head of the Ricci crime family with relative ease.
The executor, a thin man in his sixties named Charles Mori, got pulled into this mess through no fault of his own. He doesn’t want to see Nino at the helm any more than the rest of us, but he’s just my father’s estate planner. The man has never even held a gun.
A fact we all learned very quickly when Frankie handed him a weapon on our drive over.
He held steady through beating after beating, never giving up the location of the second will.
A simple speed bump considering the forged signature will be easy enough to prove.
We’ll deal with that later, along with the copy of the amended will, which is in Charlie’s office at his cabin two hours outside of town.
We’ll enter the church quietly, because none of us want to cause a scene if we can avoid one. The plan is to lay my father to rest and deal with Nino once the service concludes.
I pivot and nod at the gathering of loyal men behind me.
After they acknowledge me in return, we take the semicircular cement steps to the ornately carved French doors as a unit.
Danny and Carlo dart forward to open them.
We enter the century-old cathedral, silently filing past intricately carved saints, pillars, and rose-colored stained glass windows.
The ceilings inside the church, which must be fifty feet high, awe me every time I visit this place.
I can hear Nino at the pulpit, giving the eulogy.
That should be me.
