Deep (Pagano Family #4)(28)
Not even his mother had said anything about that, but Angelina Pagano, donna of the family, let nothing go unnoticed or unsaid. “Vanessa is over.”
One eyebrow outpaced the other on their climb up her forehead. “Good. I didn’t like her. There was disdain on her face all the time—she won’t be so pretty when she’s old if she doesn’t start smiling. But you move quickly, Nicky. Who is this new kissing partner?”
“Auntie, no. I kissed her hand to make her feel better. Don’t make more of it.”
It was more than that, and he knew it. He liked Beverly. Since the bombing, he’d come to like her a lot, and it was more than physical attraction or even a sense of responsibility. She’d fought him, stood up for herself. He’d seen the fear in her eyes, but she’d stood her ground despite it. That was real courage. Right alongside the fear was that spark, giving her power, giving her light.
His life was mostly darkness. Lately, since Church, it had seemed entirely dark. Beverly’s light felt like a beacon.
And that was some f*cked-up thinking, and he needed to get control of it.
His smart, domineering aunt leaned on the counter, over her own espresso. “Have you looked at that picture that’s going around?”
It really was going around. It was getting shared out of context, too. Like that photo he’d seen a few years back of some protest or another, of a couple lying in the middle of the street, kissing. Somehow, he knew that his version of that was going to make his life more complicated. “Of course I saw it. Probably before you did.”
“No—have you looked at it? Really looked at it? Because I have. There’s something in the way you look at her I haven’t seen before. You like this one. You should bring her for dinner.”
“Jesus, Auntie. No.”
“Language, Nicky. Don’t blaspheme in my house.” She gestured to the crucifix on the wall. “He is watching.”
“Who is watching?” Ben entered the room. He was dressed in a double-breasted dove-grey suit, a white shirt, and a charcoal grey silk tie. He looked dapper and in control, the don everyone respected. “Nick.”
“Uncle.” Nick embraced him and kissed his cheek. “You look good this morning.”
“I slept well. I hope you did, too. Today is an important day.” He went around the counter and kissed his wife. “And who’s watching?”
“The Lord.” Angie turned and prepared an espresso for Ben.
“Ah. Yes. Not too closely, I hope.” He took his cup and saucer. “Come, nephew. We should talk before we go.”
Nick agreed. He leaned over the counter and kissed his aunt’s cheek, then finished his espresso and followed Uncle Ben to his study.
oOo
Ben sat on one of the long, leather sofas. Nick sat on the other, facing him. “We should talk strategy before the Council meets.”
“No. Strategy is for after. For the Council, I will simply explain to them our problem, how it’s also their problem, and what’s next. You’ll be quiet unless I say otherwise.”
Nick sat up straight, surprised and insulted. “Please? Uncle, I—”
Ben shut him down with a brisk wave of his hand. “No. Listen. You are the right man to be at my side. You are smart and careful—thorough. You see everything, and you see long distance. You are a good underboss, and someday you will be a great don. But I can feel your disrespect, Nicolo.”
“No, Uncle. You have my complete respect.” Nick felt an unfamiliar kind of wariness rising up in his chest. He had not expected this conversation at all.
Ben shook his head. “I don’t. You think I am past my expiration date. You think I’m making mistakes. You think I don’t know how to fight Church. Your frustration shows.” He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Chastened and uncertain, Nick answered quietly. “I love you. You’re my godfather. You saved my family. And you’re my don. You have my eternal respect and devotion. But no, I don’t think you’ve made your wisest choices lately.”
Ben sat back and laced his hands across his midsection. “We don’t speak of your father’s troubles.”
No, they didn’t. Ben had put a gag order on that as soon as it had happened. Thirty years ago. “No. I apologize.”
With a nod and a wave, Ben set that aside. “But I want you to think about the rest of it. More than fifty years, your father and I ran Pagano Brothers. We took our father’s business and built it up. We made our own business side by side with it. And those businesses have been running unimpeded since. We do things the way we do them because it works. We keep a low profile. We don’t make things harder for elected officials or law enforcement. We make things easier for them, professionally as well as personally. And they make room for us to do our work. You think we’re struggling against Church because I don’t know how to fight him. I’m saying to you now that he’s not the first cafone to think he could reach high enough to spit in my face. And yet here I stand, my face dry. The old way is still the way because it wins.”
Frustration began to filter into his blood, but Nick remained calm and respectful. “You’re right, Uncle. What you’ve built, what you’ve kept going, is an impressive empire. There is a lot to be said for the way you did things to get so far. But the world is changing. There aren’t as many people like us, who are willing to do it right. They want the fast return. Auberon’s hole got filled by a lot of lower players, with Church in the lead, and they are changing the game. Eighteen months we’ve been swatting Church away. Maybe he hasn’t spit in your face yet, but he takes a bite every time he lunges.”