Page 93 of Enforcer's Obsession

Whispered in his ear. “I’m still here, Nico.”

He didn’t say anything.

But he didn’t push me away.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Nico

I’d never been moregrateful for a telephone ring than I was in that moment.

I got off the bed, careful not to look at Hope, and grabbed the phone.

“Yeah?” I said, knowing exactly was on the other line.

“Yeah? That’s all you have to say to me?” Don Carlo spat into the receiver.

I left the bedroom and went down the stairs, the phone pressed against my ear.

“So I take it Federico called,” I said to the boss.

“Of course he has. You thought he would buy that little stunt?”

“Well, he’s not very smart, so yes, I figured he would,” I said.

“Well, he’s not entirely convinced. He called to ask if I was behind that shit,” Don Carlo said.

“As you knew he would. And even if he suspects someone on the inside is responsible, he can’t go there first. He’s grasping atstraws. There’s nothing that ties you, or me, to this. So let him twist,” I said.

“Let him twist? You think that asshole is going to twist quietly?”

“No. I don’t. But, I did what I could with the resources I had,” I said, though I kept all any annoyance at Don Carlo out of my voice.

Another part of the plan, one that I had anticipated.

Federico would strike out, try to blame someone. There might be a few more skirmishes. But the Moretti family stayed strong, we’d whether this for as long as Don Carlo held the line.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“I don’t like you forcing my hand, Nico,” Don Carlo said, his voice low with anger, but I heard the resignation too.

“I’m not forcing your hand, boss,” I said.

“You’re never going to get over that shit with your family, are you?”

“Would you?” I responded.

Don Carlo said nothing, the weight of his silence heavy over the line.

I hadn’t said a peep over the years, but I hadn’t had to.

Don Carlo hadn’t killed the person responsible for the fire. No, I’d had to do that myself. It had taken ten years, but I’d seen that it was done.

Don Carlo knew I would never forget that. My father had been loyal to him, and that loyalty hadn’t been repaid. Yet another grain of salt on a wound that would never heal.

“No, I never would. And it means nothing now, but I understand why you feel the way you do. I can’t make up for the past. But I’m not going to lose you or anyone else in this family, over this shit,” he said.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

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