Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“Don Bianco, maybe you don’t understand what’s happening here. I came in person out of respect for you and your family, but I gotta be fucking done. We can’t keep doing this, not with all the pressure I’m getting.”
I nod slowly, since I completely expected this. “You have aspirations, don’t you, Chief Morgan?”
He grunts and shakes his head. “Don’t matter what I want.”
“How many police chiefs have gone on to become mayors and governors? Off the top of my head, I can’t think of very many.”
Chief Morgan eyes me. “Your dad told you about that, huh?”
“I’ve been groomed to take over this position for a long time, Chief. I know all about your hopes and dreams, and I’m ready to make you an offer. I’ll personally fund your political campaign, from the shadows, of course, if you agree to keep the heat off my family.”
He laughs, low and grating. “You drove fucking bulldozers through a city street while a bunch of guys shot fucking AK-47s. I can’t do shit about any of that.”
“There’s more to come, Chief. So long as Luciano Santoro’s still breathing, there will be more blood, and I need you on my side. What do you say, Governor Morgan? Whatever you need, from a political action committee to pollsters, my family will provide it. So long as you stick with us through what’s to come.”
I can tell Morgan’s tempted. He’s always been an ambitious man, and there’s nowhere else for him to climb in the police department. The next step is politics and the big game, and he’ll need serious muscle and support for that, the sort of support my family can provide.
It’ll be expensive, but without his support, we’re fucked.
“Let me think about it,” he says, but that’s as good as a yes.
“Take all the time you need.” I shake his hand again. “Just picture yourself sitting behind that big desk in city hall. We can make it happen.”
Morgan grunts and walks out. I watch him leave with Detective Kyler, and I’m guessing they’re discussing what comes next. They might not want to get their hands dirty with my family’s money, but Morgan knows he doesn’t have any other choice. Nobody else is going to fund a damn cop’s election bid.
But I’ll do it, so long as it means I get to cut Santoro’s throat.
I leave the hospital. Davide’s waiting for me at his place. I join him in the back yard and we crack open a couple of cold beers to fight against the heat. I tell him about my meeting with Morgan and my offer, and he seems a little surprised I was willing to make an open-ended offer like that, but there’s no other alternative. Without the cops, we’re fucked. The heat will get too heavy, and we’ll topple.
“I’m ready for this though,” I tell him, staring across the yard at the back fence. I take a long drink and stretch my neck. “We haven’t had a real war-time Don in forever, but I’m ready.”
“We’re all ready, brother.” Davide nods at me, his face deadly serious. “No holding back. No cooling things off.”
I raise my can in a toast. “To cutting off Luciano Santoro’s head.”
“To shoving Uncle Santoro’s skull onto a fucking pike.”
We drink deep to that.
Chapter 50
Emily
Dad puts a plate in front of me: scrambled eggs with cheese and bacon. It’s simple and it’s the smell and taste of my entire freaking childhood. I was a picky eater when I was a kid, and this was basically all he could ever get me to actually finish, and so my single father chose the path of least resistance for once in his life and let me have it for basically every meal.
“You look good, kiddo,” he says and sits across from me. He leans back in his chair and takes a long drink from his coffee.
“Yeah? I feel pretty good, if I’m honest.”
He grunts and nods, squinting slightly as he smiles. “You’re happy.”
He’s right; I’m happy. The past few weeks have been the happiest of my life, which is strange since they’ve been stressful and difficult for Simon and his family.
But I’ve finally found my place. After all the struggle with Dad, after going through hell with him and working myself to the bone, after losing my ability to trust because of what those scammers did to my father, I finally feel like I’m coming into myself again. I believe in Simon, but more than that, I feel like this family is my family too, and that’s an incredible thing.
Dad and I chat about everything that’s been going on but I mostly focus on him. I don’t say it, but he looks good too. He’s lighter, happier, less like there’s something dragging him down and grinding him into the floor. I know Simon’s money helps for obvious reasons, but I think it’s also knowing that the scammers don’t have a hold on him anymore and he can finally move on. I’ve thought about telling him about Simon’s war against the call centers, but decide against it. I don’t want that on my father’s conscience.