Deception (Infidelity #3)

“Thank you, Oren. I’m sure we can make this mutually beneficial.”

I found the warehouse off South Street in the Ironbound district, and the irony wasn’t lost on me. This was Bonetti territory, the same people Joseph Walters had just asked me to contact. That wasn’t my goal for tonight.

It wasn’t my first time at this particular warehouse. I’d been here a time or two to watch Lennox do what he did. I didn’t like it. Hell, I’d spent most of my life keeping him away from shit like this, but even I had to admit he was good.

I made my way through the crowd as the stench of sweat and something worse assaulted my nose. In my thousand-dollar suit and Italian loafers, I wasn’t exactly dressed for a fight club, but it didn’t seem to matter. People were screaming and calling out Lennox’s name. Not Lennox, but Nox, some asinine stage name he’d assumed.

Elbowing through the mass of people who’d come to watch at ten dollars a head, I made my way toward the tall chain-linked ring. It took a while before I got close enough to see, but when I did, my feet stilled, the roar of the crowd silenced, and the scene blurred.

Bruised and battered, wearing a bloody white wife-beater and track pants, my son wobbled on the balls of his feet, his fists clenched and eyes focused on his cousin, Luca Costello.

Both of their faces had begun to swell as blood and spit splattered the first rows of spectators. It was there, ringside, that I saw Vincent Costello. Within seconds, I was there, pushing Jimmy out of the way and moving beside Angelina’s cousin.

“Tell me what you want and make this stop,” I pleaded. “They’re going to kill each other and then what do we have? We both lose our sons. Is that what you want?”

My stomach heaved as the crunch of cartilage and bone forced us both to turn toward the ring. This time it was Luca who’d taken the hit. He spat blood onto the floor.

“Ten percent on all,” Vincent said.

“All?” I asked. I paid the Costellos ten percent of all earnings in New York, but Demetri Enterprises had grown globally.

“All.”

“Fine. Make it stop. You’re nearly killing our sons over money?”

“Respect,” Vincent said. “I stop this. You pay. Lennox, he’s good. He has talent. It’s time he uses it in an honorable way—for the family.”

“I’ll pay,” I confirmed. “Stop this now.” Both young men were looking as though they might fall helplessly to the mat.

Vincent turned to Jimmy and nodded. Immediately, a referee or announcer, I didn’t know who he was, stepped into the ring and the vise that had been crushing my chest loosened a bit.

I stood, my new focus on getting to Lennox, when Vincent grabbed my arm. “We’ll talk.”

It wasn’t a request but a summons. “Yes, Vincent. We’ll talk.”

Lennox’s left eye was nearly eclipsed by the red and purple swelling. I supported his weight as he draped an arm over my shoulder. The crowd parted as I helped—carried—Lennox, my over six-foot-tall son, and Vincent did the same for Luca.

“Brooklyn,” Vincent said, his way of telling me to take Lennox somewhere else. Luca would be going to seek medical treatment in Brooklyn. Both of the boys couldn’t be at the same hospital or it would be questioned.

I nodded and assessed my son. Was he well enough to tolerate the drive to Westchester? “Lennox, do you hear me?”

“H-he… a hit?”

“Do you hear me?”

“I’m alive.”

He was. He was alive.

If I got him to Rye, Angelina would be close. She’d be better for him during his recovery than I.

“We’re going to the hospital in Rye,” I said after I had us both in the car. Though I had him belted in and his seat reclined, he continued to jerk his head forward and mumble things I couldn’t make out.





“WHY WON’T THEY tell us more? It’s been hours,” Angelina said as she stood again. Up and down, back and forth. It was as if she needed to keep moving.

“Because he’s an adult.” I didn’t like the answer any more than she did, and obviously he hadn’t acted like an adult, but nevertheless, according to his age, it was the truth. It was the hospital’s policy. It didn’t matter who brought him here or who was paying the damn bill. Fucking regulations.

My ex-wife finally spun toward me.

“I want you to be honest with me.”

“About?” I’d fallen into that trap too many times to count.

“About tonight. It doesn’t make sense,” Angelina said, wringing her hands as she again paced the small waiting area.

Sitting back in an orange vinyl-covered chair, I stretched out my legs. There were red droplets on the leather of my shoes. I’d washed Lennox’s blood from my hands, but my suit and maybe my shoes were probably ruined.

“I don’t understand,” she said, her blue eyes darkening. “What did you do?”

“Me? I saved our son’s life.”

“We’re family, Vincent and I. He wouldn’t do this if he didn’t have a reason.”

“He said he was teaching Lennox respect.”

Angelina lowered her tone. “Lennox or you? Why’d he call you and not me?”

I stood and tried to keep my volume low. “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t want his princess cousin to show up in the warehouse district and watch her son beaten to death.”

“You promised something, didn’t you?”

I shrugged. “Money. He wants more.”

Her lip disappeared between her teeth like it did when she was thinking. “Money doesn’t show respect. He wants more.” She straightened her neck. “Tell me.”

“He wants Lennox to work for the family.”

Angelina’s blue eyes widened in panic. “Tell me you didn’t agree. Please, Oren, tell me you said no.”

“Fuck, have you ever said no to Vincent?”

“Yes,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I didn’t answer. I purposely left it unanswered.”

“Then I will.”

I spun like a caged animal, unable to move more than a few feet in any direction, and ran my hand through my hair. “No. It’s not a woman’s—”

“It’s a mother’s place,” she declared.

“How does it look when Lennox’s mother is the one who faces Vincent, fights his battles?”

“It’s not his battle yet. I’ll talk to Vincent before it gets to Lennox. And I’ll tell you how it looks. It looks like we’re still a family…” She motioned between the two of us. “…like we still talk, and that we both still care about our son’s future. It looks like the princess finally decided to take control of her reign.”

“Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Demetri?” the small woman in light green scrubs asked.

We both turned and answered in unison. “Yes.”

“You can see your son now.”

I reached for Angelina’s hand. “I’ll talk to Vincent if you want me to. I’d never ask you—”

She squeezed my fingers and smiled. “No. You didn’t ask. Let me do it. It’ll go better. I’m certain.”

She was right. It probably would.

“The money is his,” I confirmed. “I don’t give a fuck.”

“You do. You care and not just about the money. I guess I always knew that. I was just too hurt and lonely to see it. We’ll do this. Lennox deserves more than what we had.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off of my ex-wife. Sometime during the last twenty years she’d become more, or had it just been since our divorce? “Angelina,” I began.

She squeezed my hand again. “Oren, stop. This is about our son. We’ll make it right.”

“I’m just…” I searched for the right word. “…awed.”

“Don’t be,” Angelina said. “It took me being me—seeing the world alone—to finally figure it all out. I’m sorry I couldn’t have done it when we were married.”

“I never…”

She smiled a sad, knowing smile. “We both did what we know. Whether Lennox ever admits it or not, he needs both of us.”