Page 80 of Mafia Kings: Valentino

I put on my best poker face and said coldly, “I wasn’t thinking that at all.”

Niccolo smirked, and I knew then that he knew the truth. The fucker was a genius at reading other people’s minds.

“Well, in case I’ve inadvertently planted the idea in your brain –don’t.I assured Don Vicari that you would go along with the agreement. I said you wouldn’tlikeit, but that you’d go along with it for the sake of the family. He agreed to overlook your lack of enthusiasm.

“But if you try to sabotage the deal – if you do something to piss him off or make him think that I lied to him – then there’s a good chance neither of us will walk out of the meeting alive.”

I swallowed hard.

Niccolo could really sell a scary story when he wanted to.

“So you’re saying he’s some kind of evil mastermind?” I asked.

“Not in the way thatyoumean. From what I know about Don Vicari, he’s notparticularly clever. He’s not a strategist. He’s a two-dimensional thinker and, as a result, has many blind spots. Hisconsigliereis rumored to be the brains of the operation.

“What Don Vicari is, isruthless.Brutal. He has an iron will and the resolve to do whatever the fuck he sets his mind to. Which is why I want him onourside, and why I wouldn’t want to face him as an enemy.”

“But you just said he’d kill us.”

“What Isaidwas that if you try to sabotage the deal or make him think I lied to him, there’s a good chance neither of us will walk out of the meeting alive.”

“He wouldn’t kill us,” I sneered. “He wouldn’t dare start a war with Dario.”

“Besides the fact that he already knows we’re ina war with Fausto and we’re not exactly winning, there’s one last lesson I have for you,” Niccolo replied. “Don Vicari’s a Sicilian, and Siciliansdon’t give a fuck.So, whatever you were thinking of doing…don’t.”

Then he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat as the plane started to descend.

28

As we approached the airport, I pulled up my window shade and looked out.

Sicily is the biggest island in the Mediterranean, just west of the toe of the ‘boot’ of Italy.

Palermo is its biggest city and sits on the northern shore. Through the window, I could see the port and the massive docks for all the cruise ships.

The city itself was an odd mix of the old and new. There were lots of ancient buildings, usually tan with orange-colored roofs… and then it became this sprawling, modern city that stretched for miles.

What I noticed most of all were the mountains. They surrounded everything: the city of Palermo and pretty much the entire northern part of the island.

The plane landed at the airport, which only had two runways.

When we got off the jet in a hangar, a black BMW was waiting for us.

The driver – a sour-looking guy in a suit 15 years out of style – stood by the car.

“Your names?” he asked my brother in a Sicilian accent.

“Niccolo and Valentino Rosolini.”

He gestured to the rear doors. “Get in the car.”

Not much in the way of hospitality.

Niccolo and I settled into the backseat. At least the car was a lot newer than the jet.

“We will reach the Don in 30 minutes,” the driver said to us as he pulled out of the airport.

I looked at Niccolo. “Does Don Vicari live in Palermo?”

---