“I don’t think there was anything out of the ordinary.” I was now racking my brain, running through memories of the entire day. Moments that I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to get back. I wondered if Gianna would ever be able to move her arm or shoulder again.
“Think, Papa. Did she talk to anyone?” Julian pressed.
I tried to go through the moments of the day. The way she made me breakfast, fucking her on the table, getting dressed for the opening. The car…
Wait.
The car ride.
“Yes. She spoke to her mother this morning. She told her mom that she was going to spend the evening at home.”
“That’s it,” Alex murmured.
“Angelo must have tapped the phone or somehow recorded the conversation. He didn’t think his daughter was going to be at the club, but he knew that you would be there at some point to check it out,” Alex deducted.
“Motherfucker. Almost killed his fucking daughter,” I growled. “Alex, I’ve gotta go brief Ricardo.”
Alex said his goodbyes and told us to update him when we heard about Gianna.
“One more thing,” Alex interjected, his voice laden with concern. “Is Chelsea all right?” His question pierced through the air, demanding an answer.
“She’s fine,” Julian swiftly responded on my behalf, taking charge of the situation. “You should call her.”
“It’s fine.” Alex muttered something unintelligible before abruptly ending the call.
I needed some space to process everything, so I requested that Julian give me a moment alone. With a nod of understanding, he turned and headed back into the hospital, leaving me to make one more crucial phone call.
“Pronto (Hello),” Ricardo answered.
“It was Angelo Ricci who put out a hit on the club.”
“I figured,” he sighed, and I could tell he was already in capo mode, trying to figure out how we’d punish him for this crime.
“Why would they hit a club that they knew was making them money? They were trying to ruin this deal?”
“They wanted to do it on the sly. We caught another guy talking to the cops who was going to confess to the shooting. They thought they were going to get away with it, and then the entire deal would collapse.”
It finally started to dawn on me. If there was no club for them to launder their money through, then the marriage deal I made with Angelo for Gianna would be null and void.
They were going after Gianna to try and bring her home.
“So, this was their ploy to nullify the contract,” I repeated, seeking confirmation from Ricardo, who responded with a nod. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me. “I have to retire. She almost died, Ricardo.”
There was a resounding silence on the other end of the line.
“I know,” Ricardo said, voice severe.
“Let me close this one and sever ties between the families, then you can take the profits from the other two clubs and keep them for yourself. If we don’t have to launder two families’ worth of money, then between the two clubs, it’ll be enough for you.”
“And if I need more help, your sons will help me?” Ricardo asked but also demanded.
“Yes. I will act as the middleman between them and you guys. You will still have access to their operation. I just can’t do the day-to-day again.”
“Elio.” Ricardo’s voice carried a mix of respect and gratitude. “You’ve given us fifty years as a Made man. Your retirement is gladly granted.” The weight of his words lifted off my shoulders, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief.
I glanced up at the sky, imagining that Bea was watching over us, guiding us through this treacherous journey.
“Thank you,” I replied, my voice filled with genuine appreciation for the understanding shown by the family. Bea would have been proud. I knew deep down that she was orchestrating things from above, making our earthly existence a little easier.