She stared at him for a long moment. “What’s a Cappo?”
Frank chuckled to himself. “I forget you know nothing.” He leaned back against the stairs. “I guess in your world that would be like our Godfather, though it pains me to say it, considering Tex is only twenty-five, hardly my elder.”
“Twenty-five?” Val repeated. “How old is everyone else?”
“I’m the oldest.” Frank’s voice was grave. “The last.”
“The last?”
His posture stiffened. “Of the Original bosses.” He turned to her. “And so help me God, I will leave this earth seeing my promises made to my dead brother, do you understand? Run away, I will find you. Fight it, you will lose. Listen carefully, because this is the only situation where my love for your father trumps my love for you — because I owe him, more than you’ll ever imagine — you will marry Sergio, you will join the Family. You will do it with a smile on your face because you are a Nicolasi, you are our future, and you will make your father proud.”
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.—A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Frank
I WAS BEING too direct. Too cold.
I didn’t know how else to be.
Trace would be disappointed in me — but I could not find it in myself to do anything more — or to offer Val an escape, away from the promises made.
Promises owed.
Blood promises, that’s what those papers in my folder held. After all, Sergio wasn’t the only one with a list, checking off tiny little boxes, exhaling in relief each time he did so.
I too had my boxes.
My list.
My bag of tricks.
I would not stand by again and watch The Alferos fall.
There is a certain finality, a harsh realization when you age, when your reflection in the mirror starts to truly appear the same way you feel in your chest.
Legacies are like the wind, you may not see them, but they are there, constantly altering the course of the weather.
Joyce had always said that I was a cold bastard when I wanted to be, and she was right. I was.
But it was time — my time.
A man feels these things in his bones. Hell, I even felt it in the air as I left Val alone on the stairs and made my way back into the house, my footsteps announcing my arrival into the kitchen.
“She will marry two days from now,” I announced. “But first, mass tomorrow.”
Gio’s eyes locked on mine. “Why do you do this, Frank?”
“It is what he wanted.”
“She would have been safer not knowing,” Papi chimed in. “We can keep her safe.”
Time for the cold heartless bastard.
“Gentleman.” I pressed my hands against the table and leaned over it. “Our time, it is coming to an end.”
Silence.
“A new generation is here.”
“We have heard rumors,” Gio whispered. “Rumors of the wars between families…”
“Vito Campisi was shot by his own son in the chest.” I sighed. “Nixon Abandonato has been boss in Chicago for three years now. Chase, his brother, helps Mil De Lange run the De Lange family, and the Nicolasis?”
“Phoenix De Lange,” Sal said in reverence. “A man of many secrets.”
“A man you don’t want to piss off,” I said. “My point is this… it is in the wind, it is no longer our time, and we can no longer sit idly by.” I glared at all three of them. “Sit on our own secrets, and refuse to help the new members as they rise up and take control of the families. We have the heritage of our families to think about. Do not fight me on this or you will have a very unfortunate accident that the coroner will no doubt excuse as old age, capiche?”
“Capiche?” Sal coughed while Gio and Papi muttered and crossed their arms.
“Now…” I sat and exhaled. “Where is the wine?”
Papi chuckled. “It is ten in the morning.”
I simply stared.
Gio nodded. “I forget this about you, Frank. Real men drink at ten, this is why I do not kill you.”
Sal stood, walked over to the cabinet, and pulled out a bottle. “One or two—”
“Three,” Frank interrupted. “It’s going to be a long weekend.”
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact. –A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Valentina
WITH SHAKING HANDS, I read the next letter.
I’ll continue the story about the prince. I know you enjoy reading. It was really the only way I figured you would get it or truly understand. Again, only one page a day, and you’ll know what to do when there are no more pages.