Page 76 of Caesar DeLuca
“We’ll bring the fight to him. Have everybody return to the Crown. I’ll be there in a few hours, and we’ll strategize the rest.”
I order my staff that works out of my safe house to call up my private physician. Ariana needs to be checked out to make sure she didn’t damage her lungs inhaling smoke. My phone’s gone off with alerts about the fire. The news stories are baffled by what could’ve started it and where the homeowner could be.
Over the next hour, I shower, change into a crisp button-up shirt and pants, and seek out Ariana. I find her in one of the guest bedrooms that I’ve designated for the rare situations I need to bring someone I know here.
She’s cleaned up herself. The cocktail dress is gone and so are the heels. Earlier I had a pair of fresh pajamas delivered to her room. She’s changed into them as she sits on the bed and rests her head in her propped-up hand.
“How are you settling in?”
She sits up. “Better if I knew what to expect. I wasn’t even sure if you’d come back.”
“You’re my guest. Of course I’d check on you. You did the same for me.”
“It seems we’ve come full circle.” She lets out a dry laugh, though I hear the worry in her inflection.
“Your house burned down to the ground. The local news is reporting on it nonstop.”
“My only place to go. Thanks, Freddie.”
“You’ll stay with me,” I say, sliding my hands into my pants pockets. “I can give you anything you need. Anything that’ll make you comfortable.”
“Caesar, you really don’t have?—”
“You gave me a roof in my hour of need. Allow me to do the same for you.”
She blinks back tears and nods. “You’re dressed as if you’re headed out somewhere?”
“That’s because I’m about to make Carisi regret the day he ever looked your way.”
“I’m not sure how to feel about that.”
“Allow me to offer some helpful hints. You should be relieved. You should be thrilled he’ll finally be getting what’s coming to him. Or… you can forget he ever existed and start anew for real this time.”
She seems to still be mulling over what I’ve said when I turn and walk out the room.
I meant what I said to Vasco about bringing the fight to Carisi. He got away for the moment, but he’s about to pay the price, not only for trying to take me out and damage the DeLucas. He’s about to pay the price that comes with messing with my woman.
Alfredo Carisi has lapped in luxury the past couple of years. The Gold Rush has seen a boom with no recent competition in Atlantic City. He earned his promotion to capo off its success. His father, the don of the family, officially placed him in charge.
When I emerged with plans to renovate the Crown decades after the DeLucas had lost our footing in the nation’s playground, he saw it as a threat.
I was coming to take what he had.
Carisi was correct to worry. I did come for what he had.
I’m doing so again today.
Carisi and his crew crossed a line first. They came—not once but twice—onto enemy territory. The first time they took me thanks to Rocky’s betrayal. The second time Carisi kidnapped Ariana.
I can cross lines too. I can do it so much worse.
We pull up in a gang of unmarked cars.
Carisi is standing in front of the mirror of his favorite designer’s boutique. He’s trying on a new suit that tugs at his large belly. His tailor stretches the measuring tape around different parts of his doughy body to best figure out the fit.
About four or five of his closest guys are with him. They’re either fucking around the shop, trying on top hats and sword fighting with umbrellas, or plopped down on the cushy chairs, lazily scrolling their phones.
They’ve bought into the idea they’ve won.
