Married to the mafia King

“But… that would mean Fausto’s the one who’s trying to turn the Five Families against us.”

Niccolo smiled bitterly. “Which makes even more sense.”

Part of Mezzasalma’s plan had been to turn the Cosa Nostra families of Rome, Venice, Sicily, Naples, and Milan against us.

After we got blamed for the Agrellas’ deaths, the Five Families had refused all contact with us

And in a gigantic breach of centuries-old etiquette, they hadn’t sent any representatives to Adriano’s wedding.

It felt like the winds of war were blowing all around us, and now we knew why: our uncle had been conspiring against us all along.

“Should we confront Fausto and Aurelio?” I asked.

Niccolo laughed bitterly. “Why so they can deny it? All they’ll say is, ‘No, that’s absurd, it’s all a big misunderstanding!’ And if we tell them what we know, we give away our one advantage: the fact that we’ve figured it out, and they don’t realize it yet.””Perhaps we should call a meeting of the Council,” Dario suggested.

The Council was the name given to meetings of representatives from all the families of the Cosa Nostra.

Such meetings were usually only called to smooth over disputes…

Or to try to end a war between families.

“The only problem with that is we have no proof,” Niccolo said. “There’s absolutely nothing connecting our uncle to this entire mess except for Bianca’s one brief glimpse of Aurelio. I personally believe Fausto’s fingerprints are all over this… but none of what I’ve said would stand up to scrutiny if we had to take it in front of the Council. Even worse, if the Council decides against us, then Fausto gets off scot-free. He can bide his time and figure out another way to destroy us and we can’t do anything about it without incurring the wrath of every single family in the Cosa Nostra.”

A shadow passed over Bianca’s face. “When Mezzasalma was driving me out of Florence, he said that we were going to see friends of his in the Tuscan countryside. Does that mean anything?”

Niccolo sighed like he’d just heard awful news. “Fausto has an estate in Tuscany about 45 minutes from here. The spot where you flipped the car? That road is a straight shot to his house.”

The entire room descended into depressed silence

Until Adriano broke it.

“We should move against Fausto tonight,” he snarled.

Niccolo shook his head. “And how is that going to look to the Council? ‘We knew we had no proof, but we decided to kill our uncle and cousin anyways because we suspected them.'”

“Aurelio was with the Agrellas we know that! And the road led to Fausto’s estate you just said so yourself!”

“A glimpse through a doorway and driving along a country road are not proof,” Niccolo snapped. “It’s circumstantial evidence at best, and flimsy at that. Certainly not sufficient for us to put out a hit on our own family.

“If we did, the Council would say we’re savages. We would become pariahs. Every single family in the Cosa Nostra would band against us to wipe us out.

“That’s why Fausto is doing all this from the shadows. Don’t you see? He can’t have everyone realize he’s the kind of monster who would kill his own family just for money and power. It would disgust and infuriate the Council it would be an infamia. At best, Fausto would be ostracized and cut off completely. At worst, it would bring down the Cosa Nostra’s collective wrath on his head.

“No, he had to do it all through puppets like the Turk and Mezzasalma so he could cover his tracks. And he’s been very, very clever at doing so.” Niccolo paused and got a thoughtful look on his face. “Like a chess grandmaster, planning it all out beforehand… an unseen hand manipulating the pieces on the board…”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” I asked in frustration. “Just sit back and take it? Wait for Fausto to try to kill us again?”

“No,” Niccolo said. “No, we need to secure allies. We have to go to the Five Families and present our case. If we win them to our side, then nothing Fausto can do will matter. And if he tries anything again, the Five Families will help us instead of shutting us out.”Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

“But they won’t talk to us,” Roberto pointed out. “None of the families’ consiglieres will even return your phone calls.”

Dario spoke up. “Which is why we need to go them in person.”

Except for Niccolo, who nodded in approval, the entire room stared at Dario in shock.

Adriano was the first to speak. “You want us to go to our most powerful rivals, all of whom want to kill us… and try to persuade them not to?”

“Not you,” Dario replied. “You just got married, and you still have broken ribs that need mending.”

“Plus, we need you to secure Florence,” Niccolo said. “We’ve calmed down most of the police and politicians we’ve shown them we’re reasserting control after the disaster with Mezzasalma and the Agrellas but we have to make sure that we keep the peace from here on out. Any more chaos and the city could slip out of our control. You’re capo of Florence, so that’s what you need to concentrate on in the coming weeks.”

I glanced over at Adriano. “Not to mention that you’re not exactly the most diplomatic guy in the family.”

“Fuck you,” Adriano shot back.

I grinned. “See?”

He realized he’d proven my point and shook his head in exasperation.

“If we’re sending ambassadors, then who’s going where?” Roberto asked.

“Sicily’s the thorniest situation,” Dario replied. “The old servant woman who killed Papa and tried to shoot me came from there. And Mezzasalma was from the south of Sicily. We definitely have a Sicilian problem.”

“Never start a land war in Asia, and never cross a Sicilian in matters of death,” Valentino said.

Dario frowned. “What’s that from? It sounds familiar.”

“The Princess Bride. It’s a movie.”

“Damn good advice.”

“So we go after the biggest problem first?” I asked.

“No we should go after the easiest one first,” Niccolo said. “And the biggest fish to boot. The family with the most money and the one that stands to lose the most financially if everyone goes to war.”

“Venice,” Dario said.

“Exactly. And whoever goes there should leave as soon as possible.”

“Who do we send?” I asked.

“I’ll go,” Roberto suggested. “I speak their language money.”

“Mm,” Niccolo said hesitantly. “No, the Venetians like their money… but it’s not Signora Fioretti’s biggest priority. I might agree with you if it were anyone else but she’s a different beast altogether.”

Adriano shook his head. “She’s an old bitch, is what she is.”

I smirked. “There you go again, proving why you shouldn’t go to Venice.”

“FUCK you,” Adriano snapped.

“The Widow’s lost almost everyone in her family,” I pointed out. “Her husband, her son, her daughter-in-law and she’s still kept an iron grip on her territory for the last 20 years. She’s not a bitch, she’s a formidable woman and a hell of a mafiosa. She deserves our respect.”

“Well said, Massimo,” Alessandra chimed in approvingly.

“Yeah,” Bianca said as she gave Adriano some serious side-eye.

“Thanks, Massimo,” Adriano grumbled. “Turning my own bride against me.”

I snorted. “I think you did that all by yourself.”

Niccolo smiled at me. “And I think we’ve found our ambassador to Venice.”

My eyes bugged out as I realized what he meant.

“Who me? No no, no, no, no ”

“The man with the muscle and the empathy?” Niccolo said. “Perfect choice.”

“I concur,” Dario said.

“You can leave tomorrow morning on the private jet. Get into Venice around noon, see her around 2, and be back in time for dinner.” Niccolo gave me a sly smile. “Unless you’re invited to stay, that is.”

Adriano laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. “Have fun with the Widow, stronzo.”

Shit.

I should learn when to keep my mouth shut.