Unraveled (Guzzi Duet Book 1)(84)

He was not going to repeat himself after today.

A boss didn’t have to.

Not if he spoke properly the first time.

“Whether you looked away when things happened, or you personally held one of the weapons that took away members of this famiglia, you all did this,” Gian said with a shake of his head. “And you never considered who would be left cleaning up the mess.”

Gian pulled a pocketknife from his slacks, and bent down to slice a hole through the top of the garbage bag at his feet. Carefully, he grabbed the corner of the bag with the tips of his fingers, and used the toe of his shoe to kick it over.

The contents didn’t even empty completely from the black bag before the men in the pizzeria reacted to what they were seeing.

Chairs scraped.

Shouts echoed.

He was sure he heard someone gag, too.

It wasn’t a pleasant sight—bits and pieces of bodies spilling out of a garbage bag. A hand, a few fingers, a leg from the knee down, a bit of teeth, some congealed blood and gelatinous fluid, along with two battered heads.

As loud as the men’s reactions had been, their silence came on as strongly, and just as quickly, as they took in the faces of the severed heads resting on the restaurant floor.

Edmond Portella, their former boss.

Constantino Rossi, a fellow Capo.

“One from each side,” Gian said, drawing in the attention of the room again. He ran his fingers through his hair, knowing good and damn well, each man would be focused in on his actions, and therefore, would not miss his grandfather’s ring in its rightful place. On his fucking hand.

Gian waved at the random pieces of corpses at his feet. “One from each side, you see? A traitor—my friend,” he murmured, referring to Constantino. Then, he gestured to Edmond’s head, its mouth opened grotesquely, the nose shattered. “And another traitor—my mentor. They both thought that they could manipulate me to get them, or their agenda, where they wanted it to go. This is our family because of that.”

He smirked a little, adding, “None of you considered who would be the man to clean up the mess at the end of the day. Make sure each and every one of you takes a piece of this mess with you when you go, and dispose of it properly. You each had a hand in creating it, after all, so take equal part in cleaning it, too.”

It took a second.

Then, two.

That beat of silence didn’t worry Gian. He expected shock. He was going for shock. His men answered exactly as he expected them to.

“Sì, boss.”

And …

“Yes, Don.”





“Are you going to do it, give your brother what he wants?”

Gian stared out the window of the town car, trying to decide how to properly answer his father’s question. There was no right or wrong way to answer. There was only the truth to give, and his father would not be pleased with it.

“Well?” Frederic asked pointedly.

“It’s what he wants.”

“He’s twenty-five! He doesn’t know what he wants, Gian!”

His father’s sudden burst of anger wasn’t shocking to Gian, he’d expected it. Maybe, in a way, he even felt like he deserved it, too.

“I knew what I wanted at twenty-five, and even younger than that. I always wanted to be a made man, Dad.”

“Did you really?”

“Of course.”

“He promised me,” his father said quieter. “Your grandfather promised me, Gian.”

Gian finally turned away from the passing streets to look at his father. “What?”

“He had two sons. He chose the older brother, not me, to bring into this life. I didn’t mind—I didn’t want it, anyway. And then my brother died, but I was already older, married, and had my own children.”

He didn’t like where this was going.

“You think you chose this?” Frederic demanded harshly, leaning forward in his seat, closer to Gian. A fire burned in his eyes as he stared down his oldest son. “Is that truly what you believe? You have to remember all those holidays and vacations that you would go on with your grandfather, while Dom was left behind. You have to remember all the extra gifts you were given, and the attention Corrado gave to only you.”

Gian held his tongue, but barely.

“I don’t blame you for holding him on a pedestal, Gian, because I wasn’t allowed to let you see anything different than what he wanted you to see. And you loved him so much. Mio Dio, look how much you loved him! Right to his death, into his grave, my boy. But don’t be foolish. Don’t be a stupid man, still seeing things through a child’s gaze. You’re too old, and far too intelligent, for that now.”

“I see things exactly as they are,” Gian replied quietly.

“You were the bargaining chip,” his father said, that bitterness never wavering. “You were the one I gave up, to spare the others. Your brother, your sister. He wouldn’t bother with them in this life, when he didn’t need to. He had you, like he had my brother all those years ago, and that was enough to carry on the name, Gian. He promised me—do not make your brother a made man.”

Gian wanted to deny the things his father said, but in all honestly, he couldn’t. His life had been privileged, both by the wealth of his family, and the status of his grandfather. It was only because of the affection his grandfather had given to him, that respect in his life came far easier than it did for the others. Corrado’s attentions had always focused more on Gian. Sure, he had brushed it off as a younger man, but he was not dumb enough to pretend that his grandfather’s actions had no intent behind them.