The thirty-minute journey to the address where Nero is waiting is pure agony. Sandro is behind the wheel. I asked him to drive so that I could devote all of my brain power to finding a way out of this mess. But we’re nearly there, and I’ve got nothing close to a solid plan.
Gino doesn’t want anything I can give him. He wants to teach me a lesson, maybe the same one he wanted to teach my father but couldn’t.
Don’t fuck with my family.
I should have never gotten him involved in this mess. I still can’t believe how poorly I thought everything through.
That woman. She short-circuited my brain.
But what’s done is done. I shouldn’t think about her anymore, certainly not now when I’ve got bigger problems on my hands. She’s safe with her family, while I’m still trying to find some way out of this.
We pull into the driveway of a rickety-looking house with peeling white paint and a front yard full of weeds. The number on the door says fourteen. I knock—three times, then two. For a while, nothing happens. Then I hear a chain jingle and the lock turn. Nero appears, gun in hand. For a moment, I wonder if he’s considered just shooting me. He must suspect what’s coming. But he lowers his gun and waves us through the door.
Sandro and I step inside in silence. Nero locks the door and leads us to a living room with two sunken-in couches and a scratched-up coffee table. The place is a dump.
Nero sits down, making the couch groan. “Have you talked to Gino?”
I take a seat across from him. “Sandro, see if you can make some coffee.”
He gets the hint and leaves. Nero gives me a weary look, like he knows I wouldn’t need privacy if I had any good news to deliver. No, there’s little good about any of this.
I drag my fingers through my hair. “Gino wants you dead.”
Nero’s expression turns frozen.
“He’s furious at how this ended with his nephew. He wants me to make it right. I offered him money. I offered him territory. He said no.”
My consigliere is completely still. He doesn’t even blink. I’m not sure he’s breathing. He just stares at me from under his thick brows, an air of disbelief swirling around him.
“Fuck, Nero. Say something.”
A beat passes. Finally, he huffs a bitter laugh. “For the first time in my entire life, I’ve got nothing.”
And neither do I. I’m supposed to be the guy with the solutions, but all I see are problems coming at me one after the other.
“Tell me, if you don’t make it right, what will happen?” Nero asks.
“He’ll do it himself. And if he can’t kill you, he’ll declare war. He’ll start by trying to turn the remaining Garzolos to his side. I haven’t had enough time to prove myself to that family, and not everyone’s thrilled with having me as their don. He won’t have to work hard to find allies. Gino Ferraro isn’t Stefano Garzolo. He’s intelligent, and he’s got his three sons to do his bidding. It will get bloody.”
Nero’s gaze gets even darker. “Sounds like a mess.”
“It is a fucking mess.”
He swallows. “You’re thinking about doing it then?”
Aggravation slithers down my spine, followed by shame and a healthy dose of disgust. “Of course, I’m thinking about it.” I have to. I’m a don, and that means making impossible choices.
“Fucking shit.” He swipes his hand over his lips. “Somehow, I managed to convince myself over the years that you care just a little about me.”
“I don’t want to do this, Nero,” I growl. “But I can’t ignore all the logical downstream effects if I don’t do what Gino wants.”
The coffee table goes flying toward me. I jump to my feet, pull out my gun, and point it at him. The air around us crackles with tension.
“You and your fucking logic,” he spits out, his eyes ablaze with anger and hurt. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need to know how you’ll rationalize this.” He advances until the barrel of my gun presses up against his chest. “Do it, Rafe. Just fucking do it. I can tell you want to. It’s the logical thing to do, isn’t it?”
My index finger hovers above the trigger. Seconds tick by.
It is logical. But it feels so fucking wrong that I can taste bile coming up my throat.
“I thought you’d finally changed,” Nero whispers. “Because of the girl. Because of your wife.”
That word triggers a flood of memories.
The way I kissed her at the altar. The way she looked at me when I told her it was over. The way my chest spasmed when she said those three fucking words.
“You were right,” I whisper back. “I never should have gotten involved with her.”
He curls his hand over the barrel, keeping it steady. “I don’t blame her for this. You shouldn’t either.” He leans even closer, his gaze piercing through me. “At least she showed you what it feels like to be human.”
Something is lodged inside my throat. A pressure builds behind my eyes.
Do it. Pull the trigger. I trained you for this.
At thirteen, I listened to my father’s words.
But at twenty-seven…I don’t.
I jerk the gun out of Nero’s grip and lower it. Surprise and then relief flash in his eyes. I turn away from him and cross the room, putting some distance between us. A headache blooms inside my skull. I want to claw my fucking brains out.
Some minutes pass before Nero asks, “Why didn’t you do it?”
I shake my head, refusing to meet his eye. “I don’t know.”
He huffs. “So what now?”
“We’ve got time. It’s not morning yet.”
Nero checks his watch. “Five hours until sunrise. Until Ferraro sends his army after me. How do you want to spend them?” He spreads his arms and laughs, but it’s humorless. “Not much entertainment around here. I might be able to find us a deck of cards.”
My pocket starts vibrating. I place my gun on the coffee table and dig the phone out of my jacket.
“Ferraro?” Nero asks.
I stare at the caller ID. “No. It’s De Rossi.” Why is he calling? Is Cleo with him by now? Not wanting to torture myself by wondering about it all night, I pick up. “Is she with you?”
“Yeah. We’re leaving with her in the morning.”
A heaviness settles inside my chest, but I ignore it. “Good.” The words taste like ash on my tongue.
“We heard what Ferraro wants.”
I grunt in response.
“Are you with Nero right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you figured a way out of it?”
I stare at the gun on the coffee table between Nero and me. Since I’m not going to kill Nero, Gino will. Or at least he’ll try. And how many more will die as a result?
My jaw clenches. “No. Why are you calling me?”
“Cleo asked me to see if I can help somehow. She’s inconsolable.”
An ache appears inside my chest. I crack my neck, forcing myself to ignore the sensation. “I’m all fucking ears. Ferraro expects to see a body tomorrow. If he doesn’t, he will declare war. Many will die.”
Gino told me he had an affinity for water, but he won’t hesitate to let New York City go up in flames.
De Rossi makes a thoughtful noise. “You said Ferraro wants a body.”
“Yes, a body,” I answer.
Hold on. A beat passes. “Doesn’t have to be Nero’s body,” I whisper more to myself than to De Rossi.
Across the room, my consigliere looks up at me.
“Let’s talk it through,” De Rossi says. “I’m putting you on speaker. Ras and Giorgio are here too.”
I start pacing. “Right. Garzolo had a few big guys with him. About Nero’s size.”
“He did. We could get them back for you.”
If De Rossi brings me the bodies… “I could make it look like a fire. Make them unrecognizable.”
“Gino will want the remains,” De Rossi says. “He’ll want to verify it himself.”
“Yeah. He’ll check the DNA. Nero’s been swabbed before, and Gino has contacts inside the police who’ll be able to run it through the database.”
“I can update the records they have on file,” a deeper voice says, one I recognize as Giorgio’s.
I frown at the phone. “Are you sure?”
“It won’t be a problem,” he says, not a hint of uncertainty in his tone. “But you’ll still have to figure out what to do with Nero. He won’t be able to show his face around here ever again.”
I glance at my friend. He’s got his elbows on his knees, his palms cupped in front of his face.
“He’ll have to disappear,” I say.
Nero holds my gaze.
“I can’t send him to any of my safe houses in the state,” I say. “Too risky.”
“No, he has to leave New York,” Giorgio says. “I suggest sending him a few states over. Somewhere quiet without any mob presence. He can’t be spotted by anyone who could report back to Ferraro.”
Nero must pick up on what I’m proposing, because he gets to his feet, clear protest in his eyes.
Nero in a small town? What the fuck is a big-city guy like him going to do somewhere quiet on his own? He’s not going to like this, but he doesn’t have a choice. Not when the alternatives are death or war. I need to make sure he doesn’t come back, no matter what. But how?
Sandro picks that moment to walk through the door, two cups of coffee in hand. My gaze latches onto the driver. The kid’s got no family. He’s in his early twenties. And he owes Nero and me for pulling him out of the street racing scene where he would have crashed and broken his neck sooner or later.
I’ll send Sandro with Nero.
He’ll keep Nero from doing something stupid like coming back here as soon as things quiet down.
“Grab two of Garzolo’s men,” I say into the phone. “Sandro is going with Nero.”
“Sandro the driver?”
“Yeah.”
Sandro and Nero exchange a what-the-fuck look.
“All right,” Giorgio says. “Ras and I will grab the bodies and bring them to you. I’ll get a DNA sample from one of them, run it through as soon as we get back to Italy, and swap with Nero’s record,” Giorgio says. “That way, if anyone runs anything through the system, they’ll get the confirmation they’re looking for.”
I nod to myself. This is going to work. “We need to move quickly. Can you leave right now?”
“Yes,” Ras says. “Damiano will stay here to keep an eye on the women. If we all leave, they’ll get suspicious. How far are you from where we buried Garzolo’s men?”
“About forty-five minutes.” I rattle off the address we’re at now.
“We’ll be there in about two hours. Be ready with a few tanks of gasoline.”
It won’t take much to burn this place down, but we need to make sure the bodies are unrecognizable. “Will do.”
“Rafaele.” It’s Giorgio again.
“Yeah?”
“No one but us can know about this,” Giorgio says. “Not even the women. The more people who know, the bigger the risk. Nero and Sandro can never come back.”
I swallow. “I know.” The rest of the world must think I killed my consigliere. They must believe it. I hang up and turn to Nero and Sandro.
“Rafe, what the fuck are you planning?” Nero growls.
“You’re going to disappear. Both of you.”
Nero narrows his eyes. “What does that mean?”
I bring him and Sandro up to speed, and when I finish, Nero’s glowering at me.
“I’d rather die like a consigliere than be sent away to some shithole where I’m a nobody.”
“You won’t be a nobody to Sandro.”
My driver blows out a breath. Unlike Nero, he doesn’t argue. “Never thought retirement would be in the cards for me this early. I’ll need to find some hobbies,” he says.
“You’ll need to find a job. The two of you will need to blend in wherever you end up.”
“Sandro, shut up,” Nero growls. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“You’d rather die than get a demotion?” I ask.
“It’s not a demotion. You’re sending me into fucking exile.”
“Yeah, well, I think that’s a lot better than the pit of hell you were about to land in.”
I see a flash of amusement in his eyes before he reins it in. “You’re a fucking asshole. I can’t believe this is what I get for the decade I’ve given you.”
I place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m doing this to keep you alive. I’m your don, and this is an order.”
He grinds his jaw.
“We don’t have time for negotiations. This is happening. Sandro, we’re going back to my house to pick up documents for you and Nero. Then we have to get some gas.”
“Got it, boss. I’m ready when you are.”
Nero spreads his arms open. “And what am I supposed to do?”
“Stay put and think about your nice new life.”
He shakes his head. “I saw an old bottle of bourbon in the kitchen. Maybe I’ll drink myself into a stupor before you come back.”
“Just don’t do anything stupid,” I tell him, already halfway out the door.
When we get back to the house two hours later, Ras and Giorgio are there with Garzolo’s dead guys. They’re lying on the floor and still covered in a lot of dirt.
Nero crouches beside the larger one, eyeing him skeptically. “So this is supposed to be me?”
Giorgio nods. “He’s about the same height and has a similar bone structure.”
“I think the other guy looks more like Sandro than this one looks like me.”
“He’ll do. Even if they suspect something, the DNA test will put their suspicions to rest.” Giorgio glances out the window. “Sun will rise soon, so we should get moving.”
I walk over to the two bodies. The one who’s supposed to be Nero has a bullet in his head. The other guy’s chest is shot up. “I’ll say Nero convinced Sandro to turn to his side. We got into a shootout, and I had to kill Sandro too.”
“And you set the house on fire?” Giorgio asks. “You’ll have to explain that too.”
“Heard a siren in the distance. Didn’t have time to drag both of them out and had to cover my tracks.”
Ras nods. “Not bad.”
“We’ve got four cans of gasoline,” I say. “That’ll be plenty.”
“Here.” Giorgio tosses Nero his car keys. “Take my car. It’s a rental, so you’ll have to dump it somewhere. Buy a new car, and use your fake ID.”
I reach inside my jacket and take out a plastic baggie with two California IDs and a few thick wads of cash. “This should be enough for a few weeks.”
Nero nods. “I’ve got a few offshore accounts. Can I assume those are safe to access through the dark web?”
“Should be fine, but remember, you can’t be flashy,” Giorgio says. “And use a VPN.”
“Yeah, I’m not a fucking idiot.” Nero glances at Sandro. “You ready?”
My driver shrugs. “As ready as I’ll ever be, boss.”
I walk up to Sandro and shake his hand. “Keep an eye out for him. Don’t let him do anything stupid. Remember, you two have to blend in and stay under the radar.”
He nods. “Will do.”
I move toward Nero. “We had a good run.”
My consigliere embraces me and gives my back a hard slap. “You’ll always be my brother, even though you’re an asshole. And Gino Ferraro will die one day.”
“He will,” I promise him. But even when he does, Nero won’t be able to come back. Not with Gino’s three sons still around. They’ll always remember the man who killed their cousin.
This is goodbye.
Nero and Sandro walk out, and Giorgio, Ras, and I get to work. We pour the gasoline everywhere, until the house smells toxic and everything is doused in the fluid. I grab a rag from the back of my car and wipe my hands clean, watching as Giorgio flicks on his lighter and sets a rolled newspaper aflame. He carries it over to the house and tosses it through the front door. Within minutes, the entire building is on fire.
We stand there for a while longer, witnessing the destruction. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Ras looking at me.
I sniff. “Your boss and you two did me a solid. I won’t forget it.”
He nods. “We know. But we didn’t do it for you.”
My jaw clenches. Of course. They did it for Cleo.
Take care of her.
The words are right there, begging to be set free, but I don’t say them. My throat is too tight to get them out. We shake hands, say goodbye, and I get into my car to drive home.
It feels like I’ve been up for three days straight. When I get back to the house, I stagger into our bedroom. Her scent fills my nose, and I glance around, half expecting to see her.
But she’s gone.
I told her to go, but there was a part of me that hoped she wouldn’t listen.
A part that I’m going to have to bury.
I sit on the edge of the bed, prop my elbows on my knees, and hang my head between my shoulders.
Funny how one’s life can change in the span of a single day.
