Page 50 of Bloody Savage God
Both men are married to sweet women, who are probably to thank for the formality, but I don’t want to let it go unnoticed that I have registered their respectful gesture. More importantly though, it is time to begin my campaign and to reward those loyal to me in my own ways.
My father enjoyed male bonding and old school efforts, but we are moving into a new generation and it is time I use my business savvy to re-shape thisfamiliainto something that will withstand the changes that are necessarily going to happen once all of this shit with my uncle has played itself out.
Apparently my father had a good reason to push me towards the business side of things.
I smile at the men, finding some comfort in their familiar faces. “You may have wondered whether we’d continue these dinners, but it’s a tradition that is valuable and even though we will feel my father’s absence tonight, it’s also a good time to discuss the things that are important to us as we adjust to some of the changes that are happening. Change can make people nervous, but despite the loss we experienced, there are also ways we can look into the future and seek out new advantages.”
Whereas Mateo looks a bit unsure at my statement, Romeo is obviously intrigued. “Like what?” he asks, just as Anton shows three more men into the room.
As we exchange welcomes, my housekeeper Samantha comes in from the kitchen and moves around the room, offering drinks.
“As I was just saying to Mateo and Romeo,” I continue, stepping into my boardroom persona, “many of you are aware of the value the real estate business has to us in terms of the gambling dens, since we source our locations through the company, but yesterday’s disaster at Uncle Mario’s game has been an important reminder that it’s not a good idea to rely solely on that little gambling enterprise to sustain our family. And luckily we aren’t. Since I’ve been running Bruno Properties independently for the family for many years now, my father rarely had the need to draw on our people to take part in the other aspects of our business. Now that I am stepping into his shoes and we are seeing some new vulnerabilities to parts of our operation, I am going to take measures to bring our people in more actively, so we can ensure the entire family is taken care of.”
I pause to look at the five men who are all staring at me with various expressions of curiosity. Despite my subtlety, I hope they will recognize what I’ve left unspoken. Whereas Bruno Properties could operate independently oflafamilia, the gambling dens couldn’t. Which is true, though I’d have to outsource some of the menial labor that’s less than legal. Like installing hidden cameras. It wouldn’t be ideal, but I could certainly do it.
My uncle though? He’d be screwed.
More importantly though, I am offering these men financial safety in a lifestyle where there is little of that and as boring as that kind of thing is, it’ll get me what I need. Loyalty and, therefore, power.
I may want to lash out in rage at my uncle, unleash my penchant for hurting people, but one thing my father has succeeded in teaching me is to step into the CEO role and take people down that way. It’s less thrilling but it’s necessary to get the job done, and suddenly, in a moment of clarity, I know why he’s tied me to that role so closely, giving me so little chance to let loose that more visceral violence inside of me.
He knew I needed to learn this persona. Excel at it, so that when my instincts take over, I can still switch gears and be the leader this organization needs.
Again, I meet each man’s eyes, before I speak. “Some of you are aware of the blackmailing schemes we have going on, because you have helped set up the houses and apartments with cameras and listening devices.” At that four of the men nod. “I’ve invited you here specifically because I believe it’s time to give some of my loyal capos a bigger, and more profitable, stake in the business. We cannot have our best people depend on the gambling dens when there is less stability there than we would like to see. And less money.”
As expected, interest sparks in all of their eyes and I meet Eric’s approving expression across the loose circle we have formed. It’s good timing, too, because I can hear Anton speak to Uncle Mario, their voices coming from the entrance hall. My uncle’s voice sounds impatient and, moments later, he walks into the room, his brows drawing down as he surveys the men already gathered around me.
It’s obvious that none of them mentioned the earlier meeting time to him. I give Uncle Mario an innocent smile, knowing I dangled the carrot that will further draw these men to my side. Knowing I am one step closer to getting rid of him without any backlash.
Now it’s time to establish some new protocols that will put my uncle in his place.
“Let’s sit, now that everyone is here,” I announce, not giving my uncle the chance to make the suggestion first. Nor to even greet anyone.
I already positioned myself in a way that left me close to my father’s former seat at the head of the table. Now I only have to take two relaxed steps to seat myself there.
Across the table, I meet my uncle’s eyes. His efforts to look nonchalant are pointless, since I can see the annoyance in his expression. Seriously, though, what did he expect?
Eric seats himself in the same spot he always sat in, except that he is now flanking me rather than my father. His continued support despite our uncomfortable conversation does a lot to back up my new position, and none of the capos even raise an eyebrow at the new seating arrangement. A few of them are probably still mulling over what I may have meant by my earlier announcement.
Good.
“Let’s toast to Leonardo before we begin the meal,” my uncle says.
It’s not a bad move, even though I know it is exactly that. A calculated move, rather than a show of his ongoing grief. It’s a way to remind everyone of the way things used to be, when his influence was second only to that of my father.
It has taken me until now to realize that my father’s move to sideline me to the property business might have been motivated by something else than a father’s protective instinct to keep me away from the darker side of our life, and instead the early stages of movinglafamiliain a new direction. One where, perhaps, he didn’t feel my uncle should be involved any further.
“Let’s do that. Let’s toast to my father,” I echo my uncle’s suggestion and raise my glass. “To a man who brought us to where we are now. He led with strength, honor, and loyalty. Let us inspire to live by his values.”
There. An honest toast that still helps me establish the values I want to nurture in my men. And that I want to live by myself.
Values that make that little fling with Mikhail unsustainable. How can I be loyal and still spend time with the fucking heir to the damn Russian mob?
Luckily, I’m prevented from going down that rabbit hole by Samantha and Mellie who bring in the dinner plates. The delicious smell of meat and spices envelopes me. Taking the first bite I welcome the spicy taste of the sauce. The comfort of the familiar meal is a welcome sensation.
Whoever said food is mere nutrition? Certainly not an Italian.
The conversation breaks off into smaller ones, with Romeo involved in a private chat with my uncle. I’d cut off someone’s ear to hear what my uncle is saying, but at the same time hate the insecurity that is driving my curiosity. Maybe it is time to head to Club Steel again, to remind myself of my inner power. Except, there is a certain masochist whom I’d much rather assert my dominance over. Whom I’d much rather hurt to relieve the pent up energy all this plotting created.
