Page 40 of Mob Star

“Yeah. They took over some meals a few weeks ago. I’ll remind mine, and she’ll set something up with yours and Aunt Saoirse to send some more stuff soon.”

Women and children were supposed to be off limits. It was an unwritten law for generations. The shite was supposed to be between the men. But Uncle Donovan and Declan fucked that up and opened a door no one’s been able to shut. The Kutsenkos think it started with them, but it didn’t. It started with Colleen. Declan’s the reason she’s dead. His own death couldn’t have happened to a more deserving piece of shite.

Mrs. Diaz used to bring tres leches cake to games for any kid’s birthday, regardless of their family. She used to slip me extra frosting when my mom wasn’t looking. It was fine because my mom used to give Mrs. Diaz’s younger son pieces of brownie. That shite bag is dead too thanks to the Kutsenkos. He deserves a seat next to Declan in hell.

That’s the sort of fucked-up world I grew up in. We played kids’ sports together. Our moms and dads were the snack parents. We celebrated birthdays together until each boy turned twelve. Then we got knives to stab each other with. Saturdays and Sundays were truce days because other families were around. The men got along for the sake of the women and children.

My family fucked it up and ruined that. We’re doing what we can to restore the old way, but it’s like trying to build a snowman during an avalanche.

However, our moms will still do the right thing. They will have safe passage to the Diazes’ house in Jersey to drop off enough food to feed all of them for a month. They know it’s not much, but if it makes it one less thing for Mrs. Diaz to worry about, then it’s worth it. If we hadn’t thought Maksim would throw anything they brought over straight in the trash, they would have taken food to Laura when she had the twins.

People think we’re completely devoid of all ethics. That we’re morally gray on our best days but morally black most of them. But they don’t understand the world we live in. There are exacting standards for behavior, and codes of conduct that should never be violated. Once they are— well, our family is proving it’s damn near impossible to regain respect once it’s lost.

“Finn? For feck’s sake. Could you pay attention?”

“I was thinking about Margherita. If that happened to one of our moms, do you think the other families would send anything to us?”

“Yes.”

That was an immediate answer. I sigh and nod.

“I’ll text Sean and tell him to make the call. Once I know he’s spoken to Steven, I’ll get things going for the bust.”

“Fine. I want to go over the rental properties in Maine.”

Dillan and I spend the next hour discussing the property taxes and real estate investments we have with some vacation rentals along the coast in northern Maine. That money’s part of the pot no one outside the family knows about because I never touch it. I have it going to a Swiss account to silently accumulate compound interest.

Once Seamus and Cormac arrive, we spend another two hours discussing various legal issues. We have some men awaiting indictment who Seamus’s representing. The DA’s dragging their feet now that they know Seamus’s involved personally. There’s some issue over exculpatory evidence. Cormac’s handling three big acquisitions we have going on in Poland. The Polish here in NYC are cooperating because they know we’ll go after their families in their mother country and just take what we want if they try to dick us over here.

I head home to run some monthly P&L statements. I find an account that isn’t reconciling within my five-cent standard deviation limit. I use my own program I designed. There isn’t a chance I’m using some commercial accounting software that’s easy to hack. My shite’s encrypted to the moon thanks to Sean. I find the entry error I made two weeks ago. I don’t know what I was doing to distract me, but I inverted two numbers. I make mistakes, but it’s rare. By the time I’m done, it’s midafternoon, and I still don’t know what Thea wants to do.

Me

Did you have an enjoyable morning?

I don’t expect an immediate response, but five minutes turns into ten turns into twenty turns into an hour-and-a-half. Am I getting the blow off?

Thea

I’m so sorry. I just saw this. I’m at the gym. I missed it vibrate, so I didn’t check to see if anything came through. I had a glorious morning. That was the best breakfast I’ve had since I was in the UK a couple years ago. How’s your day going?

I like that she asks. I know it’s a common question, but I appreciate that she cares enough to ask.

Me

Busy with work. Lots of numbers floating in front of my eyes. Are we still on for tonight?

Thea

Yeah. I had an idea but

I wait to see if there’s more, but nothing comes.

Me

???

Instead of a text, my phone rings.

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