Page 62 of The Mafia's Second Shot

I pull back, looking up at him. “I never would have done this without you.”

“You would have,” he says firmly. “Eventually. I just sped things up a little.”

The drive home is quieter,the excitement from earlier settling into a warm sense of accomplishment. I can’t stop thinking about the exhibit, the possibilities it opens up, the future it promises. But there’s something in Cooper’s expression—calm but contemplative—that makes me wonder what’s on his mind.

When we pull into the driveway, he turns to me, his hand brushing against mine. “I need to talk to you about something,” he says.

The seriousness in his tone makes my stomach flip. “What is it?”

He smiles faintly. “Not here. Let’s go inside.”

I nod, though the curiosity bubbling inside me is almost unbearable. As we step into the house, I can’t help but wonder what he’s been holding back—and why it feels like everything is about to change.

44

COOPER

The air in the meeting room feels heavy as I step inside, the quiet murmurs of the crew falling silent the moment they see me. Marco stands near the head of the long table, his expression unreadable as he nods toward my usual seat. The men and women gathered here—my lieutenants, my confidants—watch me with a mix of curiosity and unease.

They know something’s coming.

I sit, leaning forward with my elbows on the table, my gaze sweeping across the room. These people have been with me through everything—victories, betrayals, and losses that still haunt me. They’ve put their faith in me time and time again, and now I’m about to ask them to do it one more time.

“Thanks for coming,” I begin, my voice steady. “I know it’s been a long few weeks, and I appreciate all of you stepping up while I’ve been out of commission.”

There’s a faint murmur of acknowledgment, but it’s subdued, cautious. They’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I take a deep breath,meeting Marco’s gaze for a brief moment before turning back to the group. “We’ve been through a lot together,” I continue. “More than most people could handle. And because of that, we’ve built something stronger than any one person. Something that can survive even when the odds are against us.”

A few heads nod, their expressions softening. I press on, my voice firmer now.

“But the truth is, I can’t lead this anymore,” I say, the words falling heavily into the silence. “I’ve made the decision to step down.”

The room erupts in murmurs, some surprised, others confused. Angelo is the first to speak, his brow furrowed. “Step down? What are you talking about, boss?”

“I’m talking about passing the torch,” I reply, my gaze steady. “It’s time for someone else to take the reins. Someone who can lead this organization into the future.”

The murmurs grow louder,the tension in the room palpable. Marco steps forward, his hands resting on the back of a chair as he looks around the table.

“It’s true,” Marco says, his voice calm but authoritative. “Cooper’s made his decision, and I’ve agreed to take over.”

This silences the room, all eyes turning to Marco. Some look skeptical, others relieved, but no one speaks for a long moment. Finally, Frank, one of my older lieutenants, leans forward, his expression thoughtful.

“You think you’re ready for this, Marco?” he asks. “This isn’t just about running the day-to-day. It’s about carrying the weight of everything we’ve built.”

Marco nods, his expression firm. “I know what it means, Frank. And I wouldn’t take this on if I didn’t think I could do it.”

As the crewbegins to discuss the transition, I lean back in my chair, letting the conversation flow around me. It feels strange, almost surreal, to watch them shift their focus from me to Marco. For years, this room has been my domain, every decision falling squarely on my shoulders. But now, I can feel the weight lifting, replaced by something that feels dangerously close to peace.

Still, doubts linger.

When the meeting ends,most of the crew files out, their expressions a mix of acceptance and lingering uncertainty. Marco stays behind, leaning against the edge of the table as he looks at me.

“You sure about this?” he asks, his tone quieter now.

I nod. “I am. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

Marco exhales, his usual confidence tempered by something more vulnerable. “What if I screw this up, Cooper? What if I can’t?—”

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