Page 27 of The Sicilian Bastard
Luciano
After leaving my littlefiore, I grabbed a snack in the kitchen. I was layering cheese on top of my meat when Agosto walked in. I threw a head nod in his direction, but he didn't even see it. I looked up from my task and noticed he was nervous.
"What's bothering you,fratello?" It wasn't that I cared, it was more that he was distracting me.
"Nothing… everything. I don't know anymore. It's too much." He blew out a breath. His chest was rising and falling in a rush. He had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep.
How did I miss my baby brother who was missing the mark?You've been too wrapped up in that little morsel to see what was happening right under your nose,a voice cackled in the back of my mind. I shook my head to knock out the thoughts and focused on Agosto. "Tell me about it one step at a time," I suggested.
While I would rather force him to tell me under torture, that wasn't going to work with famiglia. I had to be soft. I had to approach him with a nice, even tone. Make him think it was his idea. Stupid.
"The biggest? Nicolo and Rosalina aren't getting along on the couples' honeymoon. According to Vittorio, it was a bad idea to even bring them." He ran out of steam.
I took a bite out of my sandwich so I didn't have to respond right away. If it were up to me, Nicolo would be swimming with the fishes. Alas, it wasn't up to me and the little prick had wormed his way into my sister's life. Now, I had to choose. Help them heal their relationship or light it on fire and watch it burn. On one hand, I wanted Rosalina to be happy. On the other, I didn't trust those New York bastards and wasn't on board with an alliance at all.
"We need to sit down with them as a famiglia. Not an ambush, but an intervention. We tell them either we all talk it out or they split," I offered. It wasn't an easy solution. It would be killing our alliance if we did that. Agosto echoed that thought a moment later.
"You know we can't do that," he sighed, the frustration welling up in his body language. It was understandable. He was under a lot of pressure.
"We can do what the fuck we want. What's the worst that happens:? Do we go to war? We are always at war. Fuck it," I threw out.
Sure, he might think I was being cavalier about this, but I wasn't. I had this urge to go to war with the Falcones since I first met the Don. Which was by accident. I wasn't where I should have been and I had a run-in with him. He smirked when I got punished. He knew who I was. He knew how they treated me. He thought it was funny. Like he didn't have bastards running around somewhere. Probably Sicily.
"I'll think about it," Agosto was saying.
"What else?" I shoved the rest of my sandwich in my mouth and started fixing him one. He could use a good meal. I hadn't seen him eat in a while. A few days ago, I caught him shoveling food in his mouth in the office while staring at the computer. That was no way to eat.
"I need someone to go through Oregon and Tenth and drop off some stuff. That was why I came down here in the first place." Agosto grunted his thanks after I slid him his food.
"Only a drop off?" I tilted my head as Agosto shoved half the sandwich in his mouth. He shook his head and started coughing. I patted his back and slid him some water. I knew he was hungry.
"No, a few pickups have been off. I need you to do it and make sure nothing is going on. I don't trust anyone else with that right now."
"Why?" I demanded. I usually wouldn't, but if he was questioning the loyalty of my men, I would sure as fuck stand up to him.
"No, I meant outside interference. I'm sorry, Luciano. Truly. I'm exhausted. Vegas isn't like this," Agosto panicked.
I peered at him. He was jittery now, his leg bouncing up and down. The frown on his face pinched his brow. He looked remorseful, so I shook it off. It was his temporary job after all. "The gangs are getting wiped out. We need to do something about this."
Agosto blanched, his face paling at the idea of going to war. He was always the softest of us. I suppressed an annoyed sigh. "I know, but I was hoping we could wait for Vito to get back. He's more equipped at dealing with this kind of thing."
I bit back my reply and nodded my head. I wasn't soft like Agosto. I think Vegas had a little to do with it as well. If he had stayed in Philly, he would've been harder. His father wouldn't have accepted him otherwise. I still wasn't privy to why Agosto was sent to Vegas. I was certain there was a story there, but I didn't know what it was. "I'm headed out then." I cut the rest of business off. We could finish having a fucked-up therapy session when I got back.
I never left the house without packing heat, but there was something telling me to be extra prepared. I grabbed guns and knives like I was going to war. I had my smallest shooters on each ankle, locked into holsters. I had a shoulder holster that held two guns. The trickiest part would be my pocket holders. I rarely carried them, but I had an inkling that said I needed to. I put one in each pocket of my jacket then practiced drawing quickly from them until my movements were more fluid. If something were to happen, I wanted to be able to defend myself. I threw on a belt and added two knives just in case. I grabbed my duffel of ammunition and a small case of it to put in my pants.
Finally, I was ready to head out. I grabbed two-foot soldiers. I wanted more eyes. I was the only person in the famiglia who didn't have a bodyguard on me. Something else that made me feel like I was less than family. I shook off the melancholy that line of thinking could draw up and focused on the task at hand.
Our pickup was fine. It was on South Twelfth street, well within our territory but skirting close to Oregon and Tenth. I wasn't going to avoid the area. I just didn't see the point in issues if I didn't have any. I got the package from a skinny guy on the corner of Twelfth and Camac. There were a few more we had to do. Three had their money and they weren't short, but when I got to the last one, it got dicey.
Ronnie Jackson was a squirrelly man who loved the cards. I had sent a few men to get our payment but had never met him myself. There were never any complaints, but if Agosto said he was short, then he was short. That was the word of our interim leader. We had to follow, no questions asked. Ronnie lived at the corner of Tenth and Adler street. Close to where the gang was, but not. I didn't see any Russian lookouts. The coast was clear. I sent the two soldiers on either side of the house. That way, Ronnie would think he was only dealing with me.
I jogged up the three steps and knocked nice and sweet. Lure them in with a false sense of security and all that. It took a beat before the door swung open. A pretty young thing opened the door nice and wide. I was able to see right into the house. They didn't have any company downstairs.
"Can I help you?" the scantily dressed woman asked. She was wearing a T-shirt three sizes too small. I could see the lips of her pussy pressed against the bottom of the shirt. She turned to the side, giving me a glance at her sagging ass. I could see the track marks that looked fresh and picked at. There were even a few drops of dried blood on her dominant arm.
"Yeah, I'm looking for Ronnie." I shot her what I hoped was a disarming smile.
"Sure. Ronnie!" she exclaimed in my face. She flounced off, leaving the door open and flashing her ass to anyone on the street.
I stepped into the tiny hovel Ronnie called a home. He used to have a decent-sized house before he made big bets he couldn't back up. I grinned, remembering fondly the order to seize his home. Good times. Ronnie came around the corner, took one look at me, and took off.
"Shit," I cursed as I took off after him.
He ran out the back door and I pumped my arms after him. He hopped the fence and took off. Oh, when I caught up with him, I was going to make it hurt. I vaulted over, feeling my knees jar at the impact. At the corner, one of the soldiers cut him off. I reached out to grab him as a series of pops happened. Ronnie took three bullets to the chest in front of me and hit the ground. I rolled away and pulled my shoulder piece out. I emptied the clip into the retreating vehicle.
"Let's get out of here before the cops come," I told the men. No one was injured, thankfully. It was a shame Ronnie was hit, but we could live without his constant debt. I watched the sedan peel around a corner sharply, almost dumping the shooter out the window.
The man hanging out of the dark sedan had a huge tattoo on his hand. It looked familiar. A five-point crown with an X carved into it. I noted it. There had to be some kind of significance to it. In our world, body art could tie you to a certain mafia. It showed allegiances. This wasn't the Russians, that was for sure. That shooter wasn't pale at all. He was tan. I could only assume two things. Either the Russians were outsourcing their hits, or there was a new player in town. With the information I currently had, I had to think it was the Russians. Maybe they hadn't killed all the gang members they stole territory from. The idea was plausible. I wasn't buying it, though. I didn't become the best enforcer by not trusting my instincts.
Right now, my instincts were screaming that this hit was off. There was no reason to kill Ronnie. Sure, he was a little slippery, but given a little pressure, he usually folded and coughed up what was owed. No, this seemed like a test of strength. The Russians wouldn't need to do that. Not after the way we dealt with them after we killed Romano. They tried to come at us and we took them all out. It was the one good thing about the syndicate we created. That alliance was an integral part of giving us more men to take on the Russians. They thought they could steal territory and peddle flesh under our authority. That wasn't how this game went. They had no place here. This whole city belonged to the Picones. I might not like my famiglia, but blood always won out in the end. At the end of the day, I was still a Picone. The Russians needed to be eradicated. Like cockroaches, they were back. I didn't want them in my city. The Bratva had no place in Philadelphia. I was going to show them whose city this was. Nothing and no one would get in my way.
