Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
He didn’t have time.
Giorgio made Salvatore twitchier in the next moment by saying, “You waited quite a while after your man pulled up before coming in. We’re not interrupting something more important, are we?”
“Not at all,” Salvatore deadpanned.
A smirk formed on Giorgio’s smug face. “Are you going to sit?”
“I’m not sure I’m needed here to begin with. I assume this is about Nico’s dues to the Jersey Crew? Let’s not run through all the pleasantries in the meantime.”
Giorgio ran his tongue over his teeth, sucking. “I ordered for you.”
“Coffee only, I hope.”
The boss didn’t reply.
Big Mike, on the other hand, gave Salvatore a pointed look while his beefy arms stayed folded over his large chest. The golden tan on the man’s hairy arms had deepened significantly. His signature gold horn necklace hung around his throat at the end of a diamond-encrusted chain. The three of them, all in black, tailored suits, stuck out like sore thumbs in the middle of Big Mike’s Deli. The private room with mirrored glass overlooking the front parking lot helped with said problem, and Mike spent most of his days in the same chair where he currently sat.
Business could be done wherever they liked.
“How did the wife find Siena this year?” Salvatore asked the man.
“Well, she’s pregnant again, so,” Big Mike returned, grinning.
“Congratulations. That’s the fourth?”
Mike nodded. “She wants half a baseball team, man. How do you say no?”
Easily, Salvatore thought.
Giorgio, however, had clearly taken enough. “Salvatore, sit.”
“I don’t need to,” he told the boss, hoping this time the sentiment would land. “How much did Nico pay?”
“Three hundred thousand,” Big Mike said. “Do you know how much a bag with that kinda cash weighs? The kid walked into the club last weekend with it tossed over his shoulder. Obviously, the only reason he got past anybody and dropped it on my bar was because we all recognized his face. I had some questions.”
“And?” Salvatore pressed.
Big Mike rolled his big shoulders, indifferent. “He answered every one of them. Point blank, straight to it. I gotta say, boss,” he added then, turning to Giorgio. “He’s kinda easy to talk to when you get him on a roll. He had half the bar joining in, didn’t forget a name the first time he heard it, and he never stepped out of line the moment I walked on the scene.”
There you go, Nico, Salvatore thought.
“I’m surprised,” Giorgio responded dryly, “seeing as how the last club I knew him to go to, he burned the DJ’s booth down after a disagreement. I heard he got banned from quite a few more down in Miami.”
Salvatore tampered the urge to roll his eyes. “For what, popping off at the mouth or giving somebody a punch when they probably deserved it? That’s shit we do daily across Jersey and New York, and nobody even takes a second look. Had he done that here, you wouldn’t know about those clubs, either.”
“Yeah, well it’s a bit about learning to control one’s fucking urges, isn’t it?” Giorgio snapped.
“Respect meets respect with Nico every time,” Salvatore replied, refusing to give him an inch. “He’s not proved me differently once in the time I’ve had my eye on him. You said it to me, Giorgio. He needs to understand the expectations immediately. And he does.”
Big Mike’s gaze darted between the two men locked in a staring contest, clearly picking up on something. “And see, this is why I called the boss.”
“Could you use him or not?” Salvatore outright asked the capo, still staring Giorgio down.
“I don’t need a problem.”
“He isn’t one.”
“History does suggest the opposite, Sal.”
“Mike, I’m serious here,” he replied.
Big Mike grinned. “Can he do more than hustle drugs?”
“He wasn’t just hustling. He had a whole set up.”
“I did hear something about that when I made some calls,” Mike noted, his attention darting to Giorgio. “Were the dues thirty percent of what he made?”
“He cleared just short of a million as per the statements of the account where he deposited the money after he washed it. In less than a year, he took that cut. The three hundred was thirty percent.”
“Then, yeah, I could use him.”
Giorgio finally dropped Sal’s stare.
“Okay, where’s the problem? Giorgio?”
The boss scowled. “I’m not saying there is a problem. I worry more about it becoming one.”
“And why would that be?” Salvatore asked right back, not missing a beat.
Silence followed.
Giorgio wouldn’t meet his eyes.
Salvatore wouldn’t play this game. “Where’s Marco, boss?”
Once more, Big Mike seemed to pick up on something if the way his brow furrowed meant anything. He also remained quiet.
“Where is your unofficial underboss on a day you’re sitting down to talk to a capo and the family’s fixer about a potential problem? As you put it,” Salvatore demanded.
Fire met calm when Giorgio lifted his head so the two could lock in all over again. The boss wasn’t very good at hiding his emotions because he never needed to. His opinion was the only one that mattered in the room. People reacted and behaved accordingly for the man’s entire life.