Dante (2 page)

“Am I really?” Antony asked.

“Tell me, is this about last week?”

“
Cristo
, son, come on. Why would I be angry about last week? I made the choice to pay you out, not the other way around. I wanted it to happen. It’s just tribute, Dante. You can fill me in later.”

“There’s issues these men need to discuss with you,” Dante said, trying to make his father see reason.

Nothing his jumbled mind came up with explained his father’s sudden behavior and lack of interest in his
famiglia
.

“So, they can discuss it with you, Dante,” Antony replied quietly. “Like they have been for the last few months at every tribute.”

Dante’s brow furrowed as he considered his father’s words. “But, you’ve been here.”

“Staying in the shadows, yes. My involvement was very little. If you didn’t notice me letting you take the reins every once in a while, that’s not my fault. Get some observation skills. You’re going to need them soon.”

Thunderstruck, Dante felt a headache begin to throb. “You could have called me, Dad. Given me a little warning you weren’t going to be here.”

“Phone works both ways, son. I wasn’t the bitter one this week, you were. Instead of trying to talk it out with me, or even discuss what you wanted to do after Marcello Industries, you ignored me. I simply let you.”

“You’re making me look like an idiot here.”

“No, I’m making you look like a Don.”

With that, Antony hung up the call.

“Everything all right?”

Dante slipped the phone in his pocket as he turned to face Lucian. His older brother’s approach had been quiet, but Dante knew he was there before Lucian said a word. “I don’t know.”

Lucian’s brow lifted, amusement playing on the corner of his mouth. “That’s a pretty shitty answer.”

“Dad’s not coming.”

“I figured.”

Why was everyone else completely unsurprised at Antony’s no-show?

“I don’t think he’s going to be coming to any of these for a while,” Dante added quieter.

“Figured that, too,” Lucian said, shrugging. “What’s wrong?”

Dante met his brother’s unbothered stare. “Am I ready for what this means?”

“Guess we’re going to find out.”

• • •

“Antony is indisposed with his wife and Paulie is busy, so let’s continue as we usually would,” Dante said.

“Sure.”

“Got it, boss.”

“Back to the issue with the blow, then,” Gio said, nodding at Val.

Dante didn’t show his surprise at the title of boss. Acting like he fit the bill seemed a better plan, anyway. “Yes, back to that.”

Leaning back against the booth, Dante tapped his fingers to the table’s edge as the men spoke. Since Antony had made his status on his position clear to the men by not showing, as well as Paulie not coming to tribute, Dante’s new role was expected. Being acting boss meant a lot of things, but mostly, it meant he had control, and he needed to damn well act like it. So, instead of sitting in the booth like before, he stood at the ready, commanding.

“There is no issue,” Leo stated, waving his hand dismissively in Gio’s direction. “He just doesn’t want to admit he might be losing a little bit of his touch, that’s all. Skip’s got problems, but only in his own mind.”

Gio sneered. “What did you just fucking say to me?”

Silence enveloped the chatter of the men sitting around the booths and tables. All eyes turned on the two capos who looked like they were ready to go head to head. Dante couldn’t have these men at one another’s throats, even if one was his brother. It looked bad on him for the men to be fighting amongst themselves.

“
Hey
! Cool it, you assholes,” Dante warned. “I’m not in the mood for this shit.”

Gio didn’t take his glare off the rival capo for a second, but he wisely kept whatever smartass comment he was chewing on inside his head.
Cazzo
, this was going to be a long day.

“Since Giovanni’s crew isn’t the only one suffering a hit in this particular product, I’m inclined to think there might be something there we should dig into,” Dante noted, drumming his fingers to the tabletop.

“Of course, you would,” Leo muttered.

Dante scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying … boss.”

Dante didn’t like the way Leo had to force the respect to stay in his tone as he handed that title over. “Just fucking saying what, Leo?”

“Well, you know … he’s your brother and—”

This was bullshit.

“Spit it out. If you’ve got a problem, I’m willing to hear it. If you’re too much of a goddamn coward to speak the fuck up, then sit the hell down and shut your mouth before I sew it closed. Do I make myself clear?”

Leo’s short-trimmed mustache twitched. “Yeah, boss, I got it.”

“Good. Moving on. Gio, you’re not the only crew, right?”

“No,” his brother replied quickly. “Val’s streets come right up to mine, and since we run most of that area together, it’d make sense he’d see a hit, too. And he is, right, man?”

“About thirty percent down these last two months, I’d say,” Val confirmed with a shrug. “According to my guys, anyway.”

“Mine isn’t,” Lucian added in where he stood beside Dante. “But that’s not to say there isn’t something happening in that area. I’m a bit farther from Gio's and Val’s streets, and I’m selling to an entirely different group. Val was right earlier. Blow sells, regardless of the price or cut of the product. It sells well, so long as you’re the only crew selling it and there’s no competition.”

“And it’s not right now,” Dante said, musing the implication of that. “Has there been any talk?”

“Not from our men, just that it’s not moving like it does,” Gio answered.

Dante sighed, gazing up at the club’s ceiling. “We import the product, so that begets an issue there.”

Leo, still looking like he was sucking on a lemon, asked, “I still don’t get that; how so?”

“Simple, really. We don’t control the people providing us with the product. We just name the substance, demand an amount, pick up and pay for the shipment, and then we control it from there. We have no idea if someone else is underpricing us in that area with the suppliers or not. Beyond that, there’s the idea that the supplier could be cutting the product on the boat with something, skimming off our shipment, and then handing it out to another party.”

“All the while, we’re still paying full price,” Lucian said, filling in the blanks.

Dante nodded. “Yeah. Problem is, that’s only an idea. It isn’t fact, and we’ve never had that kind of problem before. Our suppliers deal in drugs, but they’ve always been trustworthy with business. If they fuck us over, we fuck them over.”

“Who’s stupid enough to work their shit on Marcello territory?” Carmen, an older capo, asked from three booths over.

“I suppose that’s what we have to find out,” Dante replied. “I want everyone and their wife’s fucking dog on that like flies on shit until we figure it out.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Lucian said.

“It shouldn’t take much prodding,” Gio agreed.

A couple of envelopes on the table caught Dante’s eye, reminding him of the whole point of the damn day. “And before you all start bickering like a bunch of barking spiders again, pay your fucking tributes so I can pretend like I give a fuck, yeah?”

“Yeah, boss,” came the echo of several voices.

Lucian laughed quietly as the cash started flowing and the bills were counted like it was any other day.

Dante only had one more issue to handle and then he could swallow another few drinks and get back to his condo. “Oh, Leo, something else …”

The capo in question cocked an arrogant brow at his boss. “What’s that?”

“Your face,” Dante said with a smirk.

The chattering around them quieted again.

“My fa—”

“That mess of hair above your lip. Get it gone.”

“But—”

Dante held up a single hand. “The rules are clear: no facial hair. I didn’t make the fucking rules, I just enforce them. By next month, it better not be there.”

Leo’s jaw clenched. “And I suppose Giovanni’s three day scruff doesn’t bother you a bit, does it?”

“He’s not sporting a mustache, asshole. It’s not the same thing.”

“Yeah,” Gio said, grinning like a fool across the booth. “Besides, I don’t wear this look to be cute. I wear it because my wife likes the feeling of it on her—”

“Gio,” Lucian cautioned.

“I was going to say her cheek,
cafone
.”

Dante laughed. “No, you weren’t.”

Business as usual.

• • •

Conversation milled around the dining room at a dull roar as Dante’s mother and his sisters-in-law served the table. Dante didn’t think the Marcello tradition of having a large supper for their close friends and immediate family would ever change. He wondered whose house would be the next to take on the near impossible task of feeding twenty or more people after an entire morning and afternoon in church.

“How’d you do on Wednesday?” Antony asked Paulie from his spot at the head of the table.

“Good. Beat my overall.”

Antony laughed. “You’re the only fool I know who still likes to bowl.”

“It’s a good hobby,” Paulie defended.

“It’s
bowling
.”

“And what should I do, old friend? Collect knives and cars like you do?”

“Better than tossing a ball at a bunch of pins.”

Chuckles filled the dining room, including Dante’s.

Lucian leaned over in his seat closer to Dante, his voice lowering so no one else around could hear. “Gio’s got news about the blow issue we talked about on Wednesday.”

“Oh?”

Dante wondered why his younger brother wouldn’t have mentioned something. Gio was sitting to the right of Dante at the table, for Christ’s sake. Then again, Gio was thoroughly involved in a discussion with his wife, and when Kim was in the picture, he cared little for anyone else. Dante let it go.

“I think he would have brought it up this morning before church, but he’s trying this new thing where he doesn’t prick Dad’s nerves all the time, you know.”

Dante rolled his eyes. “No business on Sundays. What’s the fucking news?”

“Quit your whispering down there,” Antony ordered.

Dante skillfully flipped his father the middle finger without his mother seeing as Cecelia sat down at the table. Turning back to Lucian, Dante scowled. “In a couple of months, I’ll be twenty-nine, you’ll be thirty, and he’ll still be barking at us about whispering at the dinner table.”

“He’s never going to change,” Lucian said, laughing quietly.

Cecelia had Antony distracted with some concert she wanted to go to, so Dante took advantage of that.

“Anyway, news.” Dante picked up the cloth napkin and snapped it open, placing it over his legs. “What about it?”

“There’s a small crew working their shit in at a majorly reduced cost compared to ours, and according to some, a better product in general.” Lucian shrugged, mimicking Dante’s actions with his own napkin. “So, there’s that.”

“What, like they’re selling to the dealers?”

“No, they’re dealing it, too. Which, I would think, is why they slipped by us so fast and did the damage they did before we finally caught up to them.”

Dante grunted under his breath, agitated already. “See, that’s a problem.”

“I know.”

“No, you’re looking at it from a capo’s perspective who is losing money. I’m seeing this as a territory thing. Nobody should be in our streets working anything unless we know about it or have had a good old sit-down with them so they understand the rules.”

“That, too,” Lucian agreed quietly.

“Somebody wanted to catch our attention.”

“Could be.”

Dante’s gaze narrowed as he considered that. “But why?”

“That’s your job to find out.”

Yeah, Dante was aware.

“Make contact, ask for a meeting, and make it quick, yeah?”

“Will do.”

“Dante,” Antony called down the table. “Do us a favor and say grace.”

Dante figured he’d prayed enough today in church, but he had no interest in annoying his father after spending more than a week ignoring one another. Or rather, Dante ignoring his father.

Antony never did things just because he wanted to. There was always a reason behind it and usually, it was a good one. Dante decided to remind himself of that whenever his anger caught up with him over Antony paying out his shares.

Time to let that shit go. That didn’t mean Dante wasn’t going to give his father hell in the real estate development market, because he sure as hell would when he got back to it.