Page 57 of Sweet Prison
“To make sure we don’t suspect them?”
“Could be.” I throw back the remnants of my drink and lean over the dining room table. The surface is covered with the documents Salvo brought with him. “Let’s see what we have here.”
On the right are the records for our legitimate businesses: cash flow reports for casinos and strip clubs, contracts with all of our vendors, lease agreements for our commercial properties, the construction company purchase orders and inventory logs, bank statements, return on investment analyses, and tax filings.
The other side of the table is covered with accounts of all of our illegal shit: the monthly income spreadsheet for the past three years of backroom gambling at the Bay View Casino, the thick ledger of debtors with the amounts they owe as well as compound interest rates, and also, all the negotiated deals for money laundering and cocaine.
I reach for the revenue printouts for the last twelve months at two of our downtown strip clubs. We’re barely sitting in the black; the profits are sliding down. And the expenses have been rising over the past five years.
“We’re killing the strip club business,” I state. “Have our lawyers get everything ready to have both venues sold.”
Salvo gapes at me from across the table. “Tiziano will be livid.”
“I don’t give a fuck. And he better step up his efforts in his new role or he’ll lose his position as a capo. I’ll have no difficulty finding someone more capable to replace him.”
“New role?”
“Yes. He’ll be taking over the casino business from Brio. As it happens, Brio will be retiring and spending his remaining years at his summer home on Lake Massapoag, fishing.” That motherfucker has been messing with my commands for yearsand needs to be removed from the picture, pronto. Tiziano has always followed orders, he just happens to be a lazy shit.
“Massimo, I don’t think it’s wise to make such drastic changes as soon as you take over. Things are going quite fine as they are.”
“Which is exactly the problem. ‘Fine’ is not good enough.” I pin him with my gaze. “Or are you questioning my decisions?”
“Of course not.”
“Good. I need all the paperwork for the strip clubs ready and the sale contract drafted in the next two days. I’m flying to New York to finalize everything with the buyer at the end of this month.”
“So, it’s already a done deal?”
“Yes.”
“And who’s the buyer?”
“Salvatore Ajello,” I say.
A look of utter shock flashes across Salvo’s face. He obviously thought I’d been keeping him in the loop on all my plans. Yet, despite his loyalty to me over the years, I still prefer to keep delicate matters close to the vest. And starting a collab with another Cosa Nostra Family, allowing them an in within our territory, might be the most delicate one of all.
Historically, the reluctance to do business together is not based in mutual animosity or bad blood. It’s pride. And vanity. Stretching way back to when the first branches of Cosa Nostra took root outside of Italy. Since then, an unspoken competition has existed between the dons. A Family may allow another crime organization to occupy the same territory, perhaps even cooperate with them, only as long as it’s not another Cosa Nostra faction.
That’s where teaming up with Kiril and helping him rid his crew of duplicitous scum has proved beneficial. Just as I knew it would. The money laundering racket we set up was simply a bonus. The real prize is the connection. The Bulgarians have been collaborating with Ajello for a long while, and Kiril’s word bears a lot of weight in New York. Whatever he whispered into the don’s ear all those years ago must have piqued Ajello’s interest, setting us on this eventual path. It’s the only reason I can think of why Salvatore kept sending spies to watch Nera and case my turf. He must have been open to considering a potential deal.
“Jesus fuck, Massimo,” Salvo chokes out. “You’ve lost your goddamned mind.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I plan on informing the Council on Thursday, before the vote.”
“Then, you’re as good as done.”
“We’ll see.” I lean back in the chair and weave my fingers together behind my head. “Now, there’s one more thing we need to discuss. Your compensation for your loyalty. You get to remain as my underboss, of course. But what else do you want?”
Salvo watches me with narrowed eyes. He may have previously said he doesn’t expect anything in return, but he is a businessman. There’s no way he’ll let an opportunity such as this pass without taking advantage of it. Maybe he’ll ask to take on the casinos. That’d be fine by me. I’ll find some other role for Tiziano.
“The hand in marriage of a Cosa Nostra woman of my choosing,” he finally says.
Both my eyebrows shoot up.ThatI didn’t expect. “Take your pick. All I need is the name, and we’ll set the date and book the church.”
“Zara Veronese.”
My vision goes red, obscuring everything in the room. I had no idea I moved until my fist closes on a handful of Salvo’s shirt as I shove him against the wall.