Page 66 of The Fixer

You’ll never see us coming.

We all read it, then sit in silence. My wife grips the paper so hard it tears under her nails. Franco clenches his jaw, and even John Carlo seems bothered by it.

“This was found in our mail a week ago. No post mark, or any indication of where it came from or how it got there,” Vettore explains.

“I had one of my analysts dust it for prints. She tried everything she could think of to get information on it, but came up blank,” Fox adds.

“Do we feel this is a serious threat?” Luca asks, rubbing his hand over his cropped hair. “This can be a prank or someone playing around with us.”

“It’s worth taking seriously. When Dmitri held me in his basement, I told him I’d make him pay for shooting you, Papà. He seemed confused about what I said. He never took credit for it. You know someone as pompous as him would have taken credit for it…” Maddalena shifts in her seat, and I give her hand a firm squeeze under the table.

“We’ll be investigating this. In the meantime, head on a swivel. Take your security seriously and stay safe.” Vettore’s gaze lingers on us. “Everyone but John Carlo, Franco, Maddalena, and Garrix can go to the kitchen. Your mama is serving an antipasto.”

The rest of her brothers and Fox go. I glare John Carlo down, and he averts his eyes. Good, fucking punk ass bitch.

“We need to address a few things before dinner,” Vettore says as he leans back in his chair and winces slightly. “Maximo investigated your concerns thoroughly, Maddie, and found that John Carlo had nothing to do with your abduction.”

John Carlo breaks his focus on his phone with a furious expression on his face. “Are you fucking kidding me? You really think I had something to do with Gabriele’s bullshit?”

“Yes, because when he gave you a ride home, I was tied up in the back of the SUV listening to you shit talk me,” Maddie deadpans. “I wouldn’t put it past you, and obviously Papà feels the same way.”

John Carlo searches Vettore’s solemn face, finding no support there. Then he looks to Franco, who slowly shakes his head. “I didn’t realize that’s what you all thought of me.”

“All of your siblings have privately expressed concerns about you this past year, John Carlo. The way you do business and manage the clubs. How you treat your sister. Your extracurricular activities. We’ve discussed some of these things, and I don’t see an improvement.”

Despite his stone cold expression, I can tell Vettore is struggling with this conversation from the tightness in his voice.

“Maximo found some video footage of you sampling product and having inappropriate sexual relations in a few of our clubs that we find concerning—” Franco says before being cut off by John Carlo.

“Oh, like you’ve never done drugs and fucked a woman in the club?” he protests to the room at large.

“That reflects badly on the famiglia and can cause issues depending on who that woman is and what drugs you take. It can cause a huge scandal, moron,” I snap.

Seriously, how is John Carlo related to this family? He’s so reckless—like he wants to cause a shitstorm for them to clean up.

“Shut the fuck up, Cameron. This isn’t your business,” John Carlo growls.

“Everything in Maddalena’s life is my business. You’re a liability, and eventually that will impact her when she has to clean up your mess. Again,” I explain to him slowly, so his meager brain can comprehend what I’m saying.

“I agree with Garrix. Your behavior impacts us all, and I can’t trust you to be a part of Nuova Notte until you shape up. After your sister’s wedding, I’m sending you to Seattle. Fox has a contact out there who runs a gang called the Goldfinches. The gang has an issue with an up and coming gang encroaching on their territory, and they need help. We need to start collecting more allies across the country if this threat pans out,” Vettore explains.

“We aren’t the only ones who received threats from an anonymous source.” Franco shifts in his chair. “Fox’s sources told him the Irish and the Japanese have over the past year. Sullivan had an attempt on his life three months ago.”

“My source told me he was in the hospital for a routine surgery,” Maddalena muses. “No one said it was a gunshot wound.”

“So you’re just going to send me away?” John Carlo seems to be one second away from blowing up.

“Yes, I am. You’re going to go to Seattle and meet with the leader of the Goldfinches. Help out and bring them into the fold. If you can’t, you’re demoted. You won’t be a made man anymore.” Vettore rises from his chair slowly. “Be smart, JC, because this is your last shot. Shape up.” He leaves the rest of us in his study.

“I can’t believe this,” John Carlo yells as he throws his glass into the wall opposite us.

“I can. You want to blame everyone else for your problems, but the only one at fault is you.” Maddalena turns to her brother. “I love you JC, despite the way you treat me. You’re my brother. But I’d be lying to you if I said things didn’t need to change.”

He clenches his fists, leaving the room without a word and slamming the door behind him.

“He’ll get over it. There’s one more thing I want to address before we eat,” Franco turns to us. “Papà asked me to start thinking about who I’d like to appoint as my Consigliere when I take over. The job is yours.”

Maddalena is stunned silent for several seconds. Eventually, she comes back online with an odd expression on her face. “I’m not a lawyer,” Maddalena reminds him.

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