Page 163 of Cook

“What have you done, Massimo?” spat Enzo, a dim light bulb seemingly flickering to life.

“Don’t be stupid, Enzo,” replied Massimo. “You know exactly what I am doing. I’ve never been one to hide behind niceties or propriety.”

“You’re planning to take la Famiglia from me,” demanded Enzo, seething so hard his jowls shook.

“That is what interim means.” Massimo stood straighter, his thick body hovering over Enzo. Parisi might be older, probably nearing sixty, but even in his suit, he had shape that suggested he spent hours in a gym.

“I’m thinking,” Massimo continued, “la Famiglia needs a bit of fresh blood in the upper ranks.”

Enzo snorted. “You’re proposing tearing the family apart.”

“I propose a transformation. And I’m not alone.” Massimo placed his palms on the table, looking down the length at the capos and then at us on the far end.

“Traitors,” spat Enzo, rounding the table.

The capos swung their attention between the two Dons—the interim old man and the soon-to-be new leader of la Famiglia.

The four of us seemed forgotten by most in the room as we watched what appeared to be the start of a full-blown Mafia war. I stepped up beside Wilde, in front of Celt, and then took a step back, indicating we should GTFO while the getting was good.

“How long have you been planning this?” Enzo asked Massimo. His eyes were wide, like he knew he had been caught. “Leone never mentioned this.”

“We’ve been keeping your son quite busy, Enzo,” said Massimo in a bored tone. “Leone is in LA at the moment for Tommy’s trial.”

And where Maddie and the others would be heading...

I couldn’t focus on her now.

Parisi smirked at the interim Don. “Leone, in fact, has been doing a bang-up job of making sure Tommy doesn’t see his way out of prison anytime soon.”

Enzo’s face contorted and turned beet red, and I wondered if he might start blowing steam out of his ears like one of those ancient cartoons. He reached into his pocket, and so did every man who’d been siting calmly around the table.

“I wouldn’t,” said Parisi.

Enzo held up his hands, surrender-style, and everyone sat back in the leather chairs.

“Distraction made your brother weak. Like you,” said Massimo. “You both made things almost easy to take over la Famiglia. You left the door wide open.”

I urged us back another step toward the door, thinking they hadn’t noticed us yet.

Done with his apparent taunting, Parisi turned to the table of capos. “You have two choices, my men: Enzo or me. I should say that I already have the numbers.” He paused for effect, allowing about two-thirds of the men around the table to nod their agreement. “I made sure I had enough loyalty in my corner before calling this little meeting, even without the MC brothers who’ve agreed to a partnership.”

Parisi held out a hand as though presenting us to the room. “MC. So you’re either in or...” He inclined his head to the floor-to-ceiling windows, his meaning clear. The capos who went against him would go flying.

“Fuck that!” Enzo reached into the back of his waistband, and I braced myself.

The silver gun glinted, and a sharp intake of breath filled the room. I tried not to stumble back a step as a few capos jumped up. More guns were drawn.

“Fucking cease fire!” ordered Wilde, but no one in the Mafia was taking orders from the MC Prez.

The capos pointed at one another, their barrels swinging left and right. The mixture of who was for and against Massimo Parisi mixed into an indiscernible blur, and the four of us were caught in the middle. The guns, all standard issue, reminded me of the load Coyote brought to church, gleamed like fucking stars.

Every capo held his in two hands, leaving their bodies exposed to attacks from behind. We stood in a powder keg about to explode. I looked to Prez for an order. We had all decided to come, but we sure as shit weren’t aware we would be present for the actual overthrowing of one Don for another.

Enzo swung his gun around, crazed, like he couldn’t tell his ownguys from Parisi’s. “This is my family. Loyal to the end.” And then he pulled the trigger.

I dodged out of the way, all of us in the MC ducked to the floor. In the long, rectangular boardroom, there were only so many places to hide. Hidden under the table with bullets whizzing over my head, I palmed my knife and checked my brothers. Celt was beside me, but Angel and Wilde had taken cover beside a cabinet on one wall next to a statue missing a head.

BOOM!One of the huge glass windows shattered, and everyone ducked. Shards rained down. The wind whistled through the high-rise boardroom. My jacket flapped open. Gunfire stopped for a heartbeat, but then started again.

---