Page 91 of Mafia Star

“Not a whole lot except for some excellent fish restaurants.”

The truck rolls to a stop, and there’s stuff clattering around us. Then we inch forward. The engine turns off, and we hear doors slamming. Carmine, Pauly, and I prepare to launch ourselves at whoever opens the rolling door. But nothing happens. Not true. It’s just no one opens the door. A few minutes later, the truck sways.

Pauly looks at me in disbelief.

“That motherfucker is taking us to Hart Island.”

It’s a cemetery island. That’s it. There are two car ferries left in New York. One to Governors Island, and one to Hart Island. Does he plan to bury us alive? Or will he shoot us before he drops us into someone else’s grave?

Chapter Twenty

Beth

I thought Chelle getting into a car accident that could have killed Enzo and her was horrible. I thought men shooting up my parents’ home while they were meeting Enzo was the worst that could happen. Why did I tempt fate by thinking that?

I’m from north Jersey. I’ve barely heard of City Island or Hart Island. I know the bridges and the Bronx. But I didn’t come into the city much as a kid. I live in Brooklyn and work in Manhattan. I have clients all over the place— except the Bronx. I have no objection to it. I would go if my firm did. But they don’t. Since I don’t pick the clients, I don’t know if no one from the Bronx comes to us or the owners turn away people from there. This shitshow isn’t the only reason I want to quit my job. I’m not a big fan of the women who own the company. Our CFO is the CEO’s brother and COO’s husband. He’s the token man to not make the place too much of a stereotype.

That brings me around to what I was thinking about earlier.

“Marco, what we were talking about earlier. I think this confirms why I should quit. How am I going to explain just not showing back up to work after lunch? I had meetings today. My bosses are going to be blowing up my phone then up my ass.”

Assuming we survive.

This seems like as good a time as any. We’re on a ferry, so it’s not like anyone is still trying to guess where we’re going. I don’t expect Carmine to chime in.

“You could take over my firm.”

I lift my head to look at him.

“I started an interior design firm straight out of college. But it didn’t take long to realize clients weren’t looking for a man— a man my size —a man with my last name— to make their homes showroom quality. My current COO is moving to LA because her wife got a job out there. I admit I’ve checked out your work. It’s beyond excellent. If you want the job, it’s yours.”

“I do. I thought I might work with Matteo, but this is a great opportunity. Thank you.”

“You might work with Matteo if you want. But my firm doesn’t work with Mancinelli Developers. We purposely don’t mingle. My name doesn’t even appear on any letterhead, even though I’m the CEO.”

That actually makes me kinda sad. The letterhead part is because of his family name. A lot of family stuff came up last night as we waited. Paola explained more about her past, so I would get her relationship with Cesare since it’s so different from all the others. She told me about how Carmine didn’t take his father’s last name until he was an adult. He’d been Carmine Mancinelli his entire life until then. She’d refused to marry Cesare until after Carmine’s birth, even though their fathers insisted they wed. She thought ensuring his name was Mancinelli would protect him. Now he’s Carmine Mancinelli Ciccone. It wouldn’t be hard to find out that Carmine Ciccone is a Mancinelli.

The other part that is sad is that he probably does little with Matteo because of the rift between Carmine and all the others. I learned Carmine was the black sheep of the family until around the time Luca and Olivia got together. The guys have repaired the damage done over twenty years of no one understanding Carmine, and him not wanting to let anyone in.

“If I take this position, I’ll be a?—”

The truck lurches. Maybe it isn’t so bad it interrupted me. I was about to say I’ll be a Mancinelli. That name would be on my business card. Despite what Marco says, I’m trying not to put the cart before the horse.

“You will be a Mancinelli, but if you’d rather keep your maiden name, then that might be helpful.”

Marco gives my shoulder a squeeze. Fucking mind reader.

“I’ll take your name as soon as it becomes my name. We’ll figure out letterhead after that.”

After we get out of this truck and off this island. If we truly are on Hart Island, then there’s only one reason we are. I hadn’t penciled in dying today in my calendar. I’d rather not.

The engine turns on, and there’s more clattering before we’re moving again. It’s only a few minutes before the engine turns off again.

“Isn’t Hart Island really tiny? I can’t imagine there are too many cars coming on and off that ferry. Won’t people see us? Won’t it seem strange to have a delivery truck in a cemetery?”

“They may not open the door until it’s dark. They could claim they’re delivering flowers and wreaths. Who knows what? Or Simms could have paid off people here to turn a blind eye. We won’t know until they open the door.”

He’s right. I lean back against him, even though I can feel how tense he is compared to before we arrived wherever we are. He’s coiled like a rattler ready to strike. You can’t tell, but you’ll know when he sticks his fangs into you.

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