I’ll take power with him by my side. Then, and only then, will I address my concerns.
Still, if Benny’s offering information…
I kick him in the nose. Blood splatters as it breaks. “Don Lucchese’s son—did you make a deal with him?”
He laughs like a lunatic.
I gesture to Freido, who hands me the chain saw. I start with a finger.
Benny’s laughter turns to whimpers, yet he still persists. “The Beneventis will never lead the Twelve.”
A second bloody finger joins the first on the floor beside him.
“Dante Lucchese. He in on this?”
“Just kill me.”
“I chop you up and spread your body throughout your territory, or you die in almost one piece,” I snap. “Yes or no?”
“No … not directly, anyway.”
I nod, then lean down. “You’re right for once in your miserable life,” I murmur in his ear. “I won’t lead the Twelve, because only ten capos will be alive. You’ll be dead and your famiglia powerless, while mine fucking thrives.”
Freido hauls him into the air and carries him outside to be deposited inside Blakey Blake’s truck bed. Our cleaners get busy wiping down the room and will do the same with the truck.
As for me, I’m headed to Atlanta. In the morning, I’ll make a statement to the police in my pocket, then an announcement to the press. Anyone with news relating to the fire is to come forward. And for local workers without a job, I’m offering stipends until we rebuild. I’ll even use Benny’s money, given this is his doing.
Sure, there’ll be rumors—there always are.
I’m my father’s son, after all.
I scratch the back of my neck, tired, spent, and ready to return home. Craving a little softness to break up the darkness.
* * *
I’m home by midafternoon, hands clean yet soul wrapped in blood. Earlier, I ordered a partial lockdown. Nothing obvious, but extra security will be placed on the Beneventi businesses, the estate, and my family. Renzo’s safer lost than as an easy target inside a rehab facility. If he can break out, others can get in. And fucking believe me, my son can evade capture like nobody’s business.
Everyone is secure. Threats to the family, par for the course.
Still, I linger inside the empty foyer.
Empty—with no Alessia in sight.
If I were a different man, I might regret my harsh actions.
Basta—enough. I need a drink.
Freido appears before I make it to my office. I stop short—his expression’s frantic.
“She’s gone.”
Porca miseria. Alessia decided to run now?
“Find her.”
He shakes his head. “Stephano drove her to New York City.”
“Who the fuck is Stephano?” I snap.