Page 111 of Mafia Kings: Valentino

“Ahhh, you know,” Paolo said evasively.

“No, I don’t.”

Paolo glanced over at me. “Word is you’re from another family.”

He meant anotherCosa Nostrafamily.

“Yeah, so?”

“So…you know.”

I sighed in exasperation. “Our operation was mostly bribing judges, cops, and politicians.”

“Oh.” Paolo smiled tightly. “Well, this ain’tthat.”

“Whatisit, then?”

“Collections, mostly.”

He meant protection rackets. Extortion.

“From who?”

“Shopkeepers, mostly. They take a cut from the pimps and drug dealers, too.”

Great.

Don Vicari was old-school mafia, and so was his son Rocco… which meant they did all the old-school shit that people hated the mafia for.

“Don’t tell Rocco I told you that, though,” Paolo said with an edge of nervousness in his voice.

“Don’t worry, I’ll play stupid,” I promised. “What’s Rocco like?”

“Uhhh… he’s… interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

Paolo paused for a second, then said, “What wesayin the carstaysin the car, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good. You could say Rocco’s got a Napoleon complex.”

“Little man syndrome,” I suggested.

“Exactly.”

Paolo was saying Rocco was short, and he felt the need to overcompensate by being a total dick.

Good to know.

“Is it really three hours to where we’re going?”

“‘Fraid so.”

“Great,” I said as I pulled outMilk and Honey.

Paolo glanced down at the book. “Huh. Didn’t figure you for the poetry type.”

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