Page 65 of Mafia King
I start to answer, but he presses his fingers to my lips. “Don’t. Don’t tell me my trust will be betrayed, because it won’t be. You will do the right thing. You. Will.”
As soon as he removes them, he stands, and I look up at features obscured in shadow, blocking the light of the sun.
“What about the war?” I ask.
“If I can’t stop it, I know how to fight it. But it’ll happen fast.”
“How fast?”
“It may have started already, so…” He takes me by the chin. “I’m going to trust you.” He drops his hand. “Don’t surprise me.”
He walks away, touching my shoulder as he goes, trusting me so much he doesn’t even look over his shoulder to make sure I won’t stab him in the back.
17
SANTINO
My wife’s temper tantrum in my uncle’s front yard may get her exactly what she wants—an end to Damiano’s‘mbasciatawith Marco.
Gia will be sent home and Violetta will miss her. Gia will live. My wife might not be so lucky.
I’ve been playing a game of chicken with death my entire life. Staring it down in the face, telling it to play by my rules. It’s a game people lose by having something to tether them to life. No one rested in the rooms of my heart, so I feared nothing and no one.
Violetta turned the tables, and even still… I love her more than I fear her.
Santino DiLustro, you are a fucking sucker. Ababbeo. You’ve sold your heart to this woman.
I was destined to spend my days looking Death in the face, and I was always destined to love Violetta.
When weighed against love, death is light as a feather.
The Mercedes slides to a slow, comfortable stop outside the nightclub. Gennaro’s been here for a couple of hours already, making sure it’s safe. He opens my door and damp night air floods in.
“Santino,” he says. “All good.”
“Grazie.” I give him the keys to park it.
A line of kids my wife’s age line up against the wall, faces changing color with the flashing neon sign above.!!Laser-Topia!!To prove the point, lines of laser lights dance around it. I find the crowds, the noise, and the lights vulgar, but the kids love it, it’s safe, and it’s more neutral thanMille Luci.
I fix my cuffs, nod to the bouncer who removes the velvet rope, and walk inside with nothing more than a raised hand of recognition from the woman behind the plexiglass and another security guard.
It’s not like the nightclub in Vasto where Emilio’s crew did his business after dark.Éternitéwas an old-world oasis in the middle of a city that seemed to be forgetting the past. Big bands, slicked-back hair, three-piece suits. Our way of life was preserved there. The tourists who found it thought it was quaint, and we let them believe it, because it gave us a cover for a business that was not quaint at all.
“Santino.” A familiar voice comes from behind me as I’m about to enter the loudest part of the club. The woman it came from wears a dress that could be red or white—it’s hard to tell with the color of the lights—with a crossover at the neck that hides what it’s legally required to hide and no more.
“Loretta.” I kiss her cheek, and she doesn’t encourage me to linger like she used to or look at me with an unspoken offer on her face. There was a time I would have pushed her through the first door I could find and fucked her like an animal behind it, but no more. I never had to tell her that was over when I married Violetta, and she never had to confirm.
“Tommy’s waiting for you.” She’s the manager here. I got her the job as a way to keep her occupied when I wasn’t fucking her, and it turned into a passion. A woman needs something to do before she marries and has children.
“Good.” I wait for her to take me to him, but she doesn’t.
Her brows knit. I know this expression. It’s worry, but not the kind for the future consequences of today’s hardship. No. This is immediate concern that something will happen on today’s clock. “What’s going on, Santi?”
She never got into my business and doesn’t expect a detailed answer. Not from me. I can’t speak for what Damiano tells her.
“Cosa?” I ask.
“Everyone’s carrying.”
