Unraveled (Guzzi Duet Book 1)(15)

“But, Dad—”

“No one is saying anything, Constantino,” Claud complained. “No one knows who killed the boss, or who would even want to. No matter, Edmond and Gian will figure it out, and make whoever it was answer for what they’ve done.”

Gian.

It was the first time in three days that Cara heard his name.

Like his touch, it still made her shiver.





Edmond Portella’s calls and demands were not ones that Gian typically put in high priority, given both men’s status in the Guzzi Cosa Nostra. Gian, as the underboss, and Edmond, as the consigliere to a now-deceased Corrado put them on an equal playing field. Well, to a point. It also put them on very different scopes, regarding la famiglia and what their duties were to both the men, and the boss.

Most, if not all, of Gian’s control and duty came down to the men, but more specifically, the Capos of the family. He dealt with their issues, kept an eye on them, and if needed, stepped in to handle any problem that came up when his grandfather hadn’t wanted to bother.

Edmond, on the other hand, had been Corrado’s left-hand to Gian being his right. What Gian didn’t step in to handle, like the more personal side of business, Edmond was there to do whatever was needed.

Gian was the business hand of the boss.

Edmond was the personal.

Therefore, whenever Edmond had an issue or demanded someone’s presence, it was rarely ever Gian’s. Their respective positions neither depended on, nor required, the other.

And yet, ever since Corrado’s murder the week before, Gian found himself on the opposite end of Edmond’s calls more often than he liked. Sure, the Guzzi Cosa Nostra was facing an upset of sorts, with their long-reigning boss dead, and no one to immediately take the open seat readily available. A murder that, for all purposes, had been done in cold-blood, and for no apparent reason other than to kill the boss.

It was more than that, too.

More, because Edmond had made demands. More, because he made no qualms about hiding the fact that perhaps it would be him who would best fill the open position in the family.

The highest position.

Gian was the messenger for the Capos of the family. Whenever Edmond wanted the men to know something or do something, it was left to Gian to deliver the orders.

It was easy to attribute the murder of his grandfather—Corrado had always been more than just the boss to him—as to why Gian didn’t immediately step in to take control of the family. It was also not that simple.

Maybe he felt he wasn’t ready. His grandfather had never told him that he was, after all. Maybe he felt that at his age—twenty-nine—someone older might fill the position with more experience and a stronger hand than he could. That reasoning, too, was a born and bred respect that had been pounded into Gian over the years where Cosa Nostra and made men were concerned.

It was also a major reason why there was so much unrest in the family. He was not the only young Guzzi man, a made man of a generation that was often overlooked or dismissed because of their age, which felt it was time for the older men to step aside.

That particular unrest had been brewing long before Corrado’s murder, and Gian didn’t think it would lessen anytime soon.

However, it was that born and bred respect of Gian’s that got him out of his bed at twelve at night on a fucking Thursday, when Edmond called and asked him to come over. Edmond lived outside of Toronto’s city limits, in the outer suburbs of a gated community. The large property cost far more than any Canadian would ever hope to make in their lifetime. It took Gian a good hour and a half to get to Edmond’s home, and all the while, he still couldn’t figure out what the hell the man wanted.

Edmond hadn’t offered any hints.

Gian disliked that even more.

It was as if Edmond felt he could simply demand, and Gian should answer, no questions asked.

“Ma called today, going on like she does,” Domenic said, his voice echoing through the speakers of the Lexus. Gian had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he’d forgotten about being in mid-conversation with his younger brother. “I think she’s overwhelmed with what’s coming up next week, and all that shit.”

“Probably,” Gian agreed.

The massive funeral arrangements had been mostly left up to Gian’s father, who had passed the task onto his wife.

“You sound off, man.”

Gian kept his eyes on the suburb streets, not wanting to get lost in the catacombs of his mind again. “Thinking.”

“I could have come with you tonight, if—”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“Well, I could.”

“You’re not a made man; you can’t attend meetings, Dom.”

His brother grunted under his breath. “Not for lack of trying, Gian.”

“You’ll get the button, eventually. It takes time, but until then, you can’t attend this kind of thing. Whatever it is,” he tacked on at the end, still irritated at being left out of a very important loop.

Finally, the long driveway leading up to the massive house belonging to Edmond came into view, and Gian turned off the road. “I’ll call you when it’s over, Dom.”

“All right. And hey?”

“What?”

“Be careful,” his brother said. “A lot of people you don’t get to talk to that I get to talk to on the streets aren’t happy right now. You only chat with made men, I get the word from the soldiers, too. I think they might get to hear some shit being said from their Capos that you aren’t getting to hear at all.”