Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
7
WOLFE
“I’ve managed to pull two guys,” Leo said when he entered the office. “Used to work at the docks, so they know how to look the other way when they spot contraband in the fishing boats.”
“I said thirty,” Don Mancini said, like Leo wasn’t his own son.
“And thirty is a lot of fucking guys,” Leo snapped. “You expect me to pull that out of my ass—”
“Find the guys, Leo.”
Leo released a furious growl under his breath before he marched out.
“I’ve got a long list of favors to call in,” I said. “If you need help to find more men. I also know a lot of people.”
He was seated behind the desk, leaning back slightly in his old armchair. “I don’t want anyone associated with Cosa Nostra.”
“I know people outside of that. There are more than just the main gangs, the little factions on the street handling minor operations, small distribution drops, et cetera. I have some old friends in Florence who might be interested in the position as well.”
“When were you in Florence?”
“Don Russo sent me there for a couple years. This is before the Skull King gained as much power as he has now.”
Don Mancini considered the offer in silence for a while, shifting his chair forward eventually and moving his elbows to the surface of the desk. “Do it. Because I don’t think Leo is going to deliver.”
To be fair, it was hard to find good guys in a bad business. “I’m on it.”
“Are you free tonight?”
It was a weird question and one he’d never asked me before. “Got a job for me?” I sat at the edge of the couch, knees wide apart and my body slouched into the cushion. I’d spent my entire day at Port Gela yesterday, and I wasn’t interested in doing something like that again so soon. I’d had dinner with Francesca, made love, and then went straight to bed. I just didn’t have the energy for anything else.
“Meet here at eight.”
“Alright.” I didn’t ask questions, but I sure wanted to. It was odd he didn’t explain himself since he was pretty direct, but out of fear of looking suspicious, I chose not to challenge him. A little part of me was worried this had something to do with Francesca, but why would he schedule his tirade ahead of time?
I went home at the end of the day and showered for the evening. I wouldn’t have time to see Francesca beforehand, and I was afraid stopping by would be a stupid move when I didn’t know Don Mancini’s intentions.
I returned to the winery at eight on the dot. Drove past the guys standing outside the villa smoking cigars in the bright exterior light before I parked my Range Rover in the parking lot in the rear. I walked over and saw Leo leaning against the side of the house with a cigar sitting between his lips. Andre was there too, regarding me in silence. Some of Don Mancini’s other trusted cronies were around as well, like Ricardo, Enzo, and Gabriele. I did a quick scan of them all, unable to spot their intentions. The air wasn’t hostile, but there was a definite tension that I could smell like rotting flesh.
Maybe Don Mancini knew I was screwing his daughter. Maybe they intended to give me death by a thousand cuts.
I hoped not because I would have to annihilate all of them. Francesca would lose her brother, her father, and all the people who supported her.
It’d be a damn shame.
The staredown continued before the front door opened and closed. Don Mancini appeared, walking down the stairs with Elio behind him. There was a heavy silence as he made his way to the bottom step then came down the path to join us.
All the men straightened and put out their cigars.
Don Mancini walked straight up to me, a couple inches shorter than I was but with the aura of a powerful man who could get shit done. He wasn’t brutal like Don Russo and other men I worked for in the past, but he wasn’t meek either. He walked up to me and stared me down for what felt like a solid minute.
I stared back, welcoming the surge of adrenaline like an old friend. Danger was comfort. Fear was excitement. I was twisted and backward and simply strange.
“Come with me.” He stepped forward and drew close, giving me a pat on the shoulder along the way.
The rest of the guys moved to the table that was placed there. Wooden sticks were lying there.
Where the hell was this going?
When they grabbed them and lit the tips with their lighters, I realized they were torches, their bright fire immediately lighting up the surrounding area. The flames flickered and danced, and they all faced me and waited for me to follow Don Mancini.