Page 110 of Married With Lies

The rain has stopped and the sun struggles to peek out from the clouds. Once I’m out in the parking lot, I look back at the diner and see Baylor is still sitting at the table by the window. He’s watching me. He waves. I wave back.

We’ll never be the best of friends again. But the next time he calls and asks to meet for lunch I won’t say no.

By the time I get to Richie’s house, the cars belonging to Vinny Tello’s mourners are starting to leave. There are still plenty of familiar faces milling around and I have no desire to stop and chat with any of them.

Brisetti finds me threading my way through what’s left of the funeral crowd and he clamps a hand on my arm. “Richie’s been waiting for you,” he says.

There’s something about the bleak tenor of his voice that raises alarm bells. Brisetti notices when I freeze in my tracks.

He grunts with some amusement. “Don’t be so fucking paranoid. You know shit doesn’t work like that.”

Translation: If Richie wanted you dead then the lights would already have gone out.

Still, I can’t shake the sense of uneasiness as I walk down the hall towards Richie’s office. Like I’ve done thousands of times before, I rap my knuckles on the door.

“It’s me.”

“Come in,” Richie replies.

Richie Amato is seated behind his desk, like always. But he’s not alone. My brother sits in the leather chair on the right, the one that’s usually occupied by me.

Luca doesn’t stand up. He turns and nods his head in greeting.

“Sit down, Carmine,” Richie says, pointing to a plain empty armchair.

Now I understand.

And I wish like hell that I didn’t.

31

CALE

Luca’s eyes watch me drag the chair closer to Richie’s kingly desk. His posture is loose and casual. His elbow leans on the arm of the chair. I can decipher nothing from the look on his face and that strikes dread into the center of my soul.

I recognize the cold mask he’s wearing. The one that shutters all truth and emotion. I’ve worn it myself for years.

Richie doesn’t waste time beating around the bush. “Carmine, you’re my nephew and I love you. But lately it’s become clear you’re not in the game anymore. You no longer have what it takes. For whatever reason, your instincts are fucking gone. And I just can’t have that around.”

My eyes flicker to my brother. He stares back in stony silence.

Richie sighs and his chair squeaks as he shifts his fat ass. “Look, there’s no hard feelings. You’re the son of my beloved sister. I know that you know better than to cross me in any way. Luca agrees that you can be trusted to lock up everything you’ve seen and heard and never open that door again. So I’m trusting you.”

I’m tired of listening to his flowery words. “Can you just tell me what the fuck this all means?”

“It means you’re out,” Luca says in a flat voice. “You’re free to leave New York at your earliest convenience.”

“What does this have to do with you, Luca?”

Richie answers the question. “Luca is coming home. With all his smarts and his commitment to the family, he’ll someday be a powerful boss.” Richie’s smile of pride is directed at my brother. “But first he’s got to learn the ropes. That starts today. First, we’re settling all old business.”

Just like that I’ve become ‘old business’. Under different circumstances I’d be thrilled to walk out of here and never look back.

“One more thing,” Richie says. “Our boy is getting married to Callista Barone, sealing the partnership between our families.”

This just keeps getting more fucking surreal. Not only has Richie lured my brother into his sick web, he’s convinced Luca to enter into a sham union that will ensure Luca’s loyalty.

This was the plan Richie originally cooked up for me. Now he’s getting what he wants anyway.

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