If The Seas Catch Fire(13)

Causing the right people to move up in the ranks at the right time was like throwing gas-filled water balloons at a bonfire—explosions were inevitable. For a hundred grand, Sergei could arrange for one of those explosions to happen sooner than later.

He exchanged nods with Roy and then stepped into a private booth with Baltazar.

Baltazar didn’t sit down. They faced each other across the small booth, and the man slipped his hands into his pockets as he said, “I’ve got an invite to a party, Dmitry.” Even Sergei’s Mafia contacts didn’t know his real name. He carefully kept it that way.

“When and where?” he asked.

Baltazar pulled out a photo and handed it to Sergei. On the back, the mark’s name, Nicolá Cannizzaro, was handwritten. He knew the name—a member of the Maisano clan. The brother of Luciano Maisano’s wife, if he recalled correctly. Sergei committed the name to memory, then studied the photo for a moment until it, too, was well burned into his mind.

He handed it back. He didn’t want that photo anywhere near him when the body was found.

Baltazar tucked the photo in his pocket again. “I’d also like to bring a friend.”

Sergei nodded. That was code for killing two birds with one stone. “Who’s your friend?”

Baltazar handed over a second photo. That was a face Sergei had seen before. Eugene Cusimano, a soldier who answered to one of the Cusimano lieutenants.

He handed back the photos. “Are they both getting in on it? Or does one want to watch?”

“My friend only wants to watch, but not participate.”

So Eugenio Cusimano needed to be framed, but left alive. Why they didn’t want Eugenio taken out too, or why this needed to be on him, or what would happen to him once Nicolá’s people got their hands on him, was none of Sergei’s business. What was his business was the fact that Eugenio would be marked after this, which would probably mean another contract for Sergei, but more importantly, Eugenio would be out of the picture. That would remove a worthless drunk from the chessboard and leave room within the Cusimano ranks for one of the hothead newly made men to move up. Perfect.

“I’m in.” It wasn’t like he could say no even if he wanted to, but he rarely objected to culling Mafiosi. “When’s the party?”

“Sunday.”

Sergei raised his eyebrows. “That’s a bit tight for a party with this much going on.”

Baltazar gave a tight shrug. “It’s what’s offered. Take it or leave it.”

“Logistics are what they are. If I can’t do it by Sunday, I guarantee no one else in this town can.”

Baltazar scowled. “Get it done in ten days, or it’s both our necks in ropes. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Baltazar handed him an envelope. “This plus what I gave you earlier is twenty grand upfront. The rest on completion.”

Sergei quickly thumbed through the bills, and then closed the envelope. “See you at the party.”





Chapter 4


“You look much better than you did last time I saw you.” Rojas smiled like he meant it. “How are you feeling?”

Dom eased himself onto his plush leather sofa. “Amazing what a week can do. I finally don’t feel like I got hit by a truck, so I think I’ll pull through.”

“Looks like you will.” Rojas sat beside him. He checked Dom’s various injuries, most of which had faded to angry but harmless bruises. The concussion had left Dom with the odd headache, and his ribs were still sore, but with each passing day, he felt more human.

“Do you need any more pain pills?” Rojas asked.

Dom shook his head. “No. I haven’t even had to take them the last day or so.”

“Good. Very good. Well if you—”

Footsteps turned their heads.

Biaggio came into the living room. “Well, well. Look who’s up and moving.”

“Eh, sort of.” Dom shifted gingerly. “Doc says I’ll make it, so…”

“I should hope so.” The consigliere chuckled, but genuine concern creased his forehead. “We were all worried there for a couple of days.”

“Tell me about it,” Dom muttered. “But I’m good. Much better.”

Biaggio smiled down at him. “Very good.”

“Yeah. Nice to be functional without pain pills.” Dom looked at Rojas and smirked. “But now that I think about it, if you do have a few extras…”

The doc laughed. He patted Dom’s forearm, and rose. “When you run out, let me know, and we’ll see how you’re feeling.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to get back to my clinic, though. I’ll come by in a few days and check on you again.”

Dom nodded. “Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”

Rojas flashed him a slight smile. Then he shook hands with both men, gathered his things, and left.

Biaggio sat beside Dom. “Your uncle will be pleased.”

Dom gritted his teeth. “Yeah. He’ll be thrilled to have me back on my feet and not making the Maisanos look like weaklings.”

The old man shrugged. “It’s part of the game, Domenico. We have enemies, and we can’t risk looking weak. If they think a beating is enough to hobble one of us, then it’ll be open season on the whole family.”