“Where’s the money?” Tony, his father’s look-alike in clothes and demeanor, but one hundred pounds lighter and without the gray hair, held out his hand. Nico passed over an envelope stuffed with money—a percentage of the money his associates and soldiers kicked up to him from the loan sharking, gambling, protection and other rackets they ran under the protection of the family name. Anyone who failed to pay up, or was discovered running an undisclosed business, would find himself in a car going for a ride to the ocean, wearing a pair of cement shoes.
Charlie Nails frowned at Tony’s lack of tact, but Tony had made it clear when he was appointed as underboss that he didn’t give a damn what the old man thought of him. Charlie Nails had held the role of consigliere for Nico’s father, and then for Santo after him. The consigliere was a supposed to be a close, trusted friend and confidant, an elder statesman of the family, but his support of Santo made him a traitor in Nico’s eyes.
“Is this everything?” Tony thumbed through the envelope. “This is half of what you brought us last month.” He shared a glance with Charlie Nails and smirked. “I thought you fancied yourself an old-style mobster. In the old days, the casinos were a license to print money. This is hardly enough to pay our staff.”
Nico steeled himself to show an outer calm as he raged inside. “That’s just the casino money.” He reached into the pocket of his double-breasted suit jacket, and pulled out a second envelope. “This is from the other businesses and the pay up from my crew.”
Santo’s eyes narrowed when Nico tossed the second envelope on the table. Although not a clever man, like Nico’s father had been, Santo had a sixth sense for when he was being ripped off. “Is that everything?”
No, of course it wasn’t everything. Despite the risk, Nico had several businesses on the side, including a nice little condo racket in which the main condo developers in the city exclusively hired interior designers controlled by Nico’s associates, giving Nico a share of every condo development. His connection with the steelworkers’ union had also given him a line into the rapidly developing construction of new casinos from a wave of foreign billionaires looking for a place to park their money.
Unlike his uncle, who had taken the family into the drug trade against Cosa Nostra rules, Nico was all about real estate. The online scams and Internet fraud that many of his associates claimed were the new wave of business were of no interest to him, nor were any rackets where he had to enforce his will through violence. Although he would mete out punishment if it was due, attracting the attention of the police and FBI was not the way he wanted to do business. Nico liked to talk to the people he did business with, he liked to make connections, and his casino was the perfect place to wine and dine potential partners before comping them a few evenings in the high-stakes room, and taking even more of their money.
“That’s it.” Nico moved to leave and Santo held up a hand.
“Since you’re here and you are family, I want you to be the first to know. Tony’s getting married.”
Tony Crackers married? What kind of woman would agree to marry a man with a reputation for brutal violence?
“Congratulations, cugino.” He shook his Tony’s hand. “Who’s the lucky woman?”
“Mia Cordano.” Tony gave him a sly smile. “I heard you were with her the other night. I didn’t know you were so close to the Toscanis.”
Nico understood the implied threat, but he didn’t address it because he was still trying to process the information. Political marriages were very common in the upper level of the Mafia, but usually the women involved in the arranged marriages were of a type—docile, submissive, fully indoctrinated in the Cosa Nostra culture, and willing to help the family through an alliance that would benefit both sides. He couldn’t see an assertive, intelligent, sophisticated businesswoman like Mia Cordano marrying a violent, uneducated criminal like Tony Crackers unless she was forced to do it—and although some women were pressured by the families into marriages, how did one force a woman who so expertly wielded a knife?
“Vito hired her to do cyber-security work for the casino.”
Santo sucked on his cigar, blew a ring of smoke. “You should keep better track of what your employees are doing, especially when we are involved in a faida with her family of your making.”
“You don’t support the faida?” Nico scowled. “What man of honor would not want to avenge his brother after he was shot in the back by a coward who didn’t even have permission from the New York bosses for the hit?”
“Don’t disrespect your uncle,” Charlie Nails warned. “He has his reasons for doing what he does and they are not your concern.”
Nico shot him a scathing look. Aside from some minor gambling and loan sharking, Charlie Nails, a lawyer, ran a legitimate law firm and helped the family out with legal issues as well as liaising with important “bought” figures such as politicians or judges. He had been a trusted and close friend of Nico’s father, but Nico had no tolerance for a man who would sell his loyalty to the highest bidder.