Page 20 of Long Live the King
Dominic
The confusion and frustration I feel as I approach the conference room is over-fucking-whelming. How the fuck could Victor’s truck have possibly gone missing? Jimmy had it parked in an alley behind the carwash he uses to launder money. That place is surrounded by wise guys virtually twenty-four-seven, so how the fuck does something like this happen? How could Jimmy haveletthis happen?
As I push the doors to the Lumiere conference room open, the sight of them pisses me off. There are three captains in this family, and for all of them to have sent their crews out to look for a big ass eighteen wheeler and come up empty sends hot venom coursing through my veins. It’d be less of a problem if I didn’t have to call up Victor Fronzo and tell him that we lost his truck. That sounds so ridiculous to me, so I know how it’ll sound to him, especially when he already thinks Jimmy may have taken the truck on purpose. We already don’t like each other, so this stupid shit might be the last straw.
I bypass the usual greeting and take my seat at the head of the table. Frankie, Tommy “Two Nines,” and the three captains take their seats as I light up a Cuban and puff the smoke towards the ceiling, trying my best to remain level-headed.
“Alright,” I begin. “Maybe one of yous would like to explain to me how this truck went missing, because I’ve been thinking on it, and for the life of me I can’t come up with one good answer that fully explains it.”
They all stare at each other like they don’t know how to speak English all of a sudden, and it makes my blood boil.
I slam my fist on the glass table, startling every man in the room. “Wake the fuck up! What the fuck is the matter with all of you? I told Victor we’d settle this by paying interest on the stolen truck. Frankie and I just went to Chicago and dealt with Victor and that fucking ogre, Giovanni, and now you’re all looking around like there’s a fucking alien in the room. Pull your head out of your asses and tell me what the fuck is going on. Jimmy, you had the fucking truck, so how did you lose it?”
Jimmy seems to look at everything in the room before he gets to me.
“I don’t know what to say, Dominic,” he replies. “We had it behind the carwash, and everything was ready to go, but when I went to put in the extra half-a-mil and drive to Chicago, it was gone. There was broken glass on the ground where the truck had been, and whoever took it had to break the glass because I made sure the doors were locked. There’s no way I would’ve just left the truck unlocked knowing it was Victor’s. And I had my crew look everywhere. We all did, and nobody could find it. I’m sorry, Dominic.”
His words don’t help me feel better, they just make me even more pissed off. I don’t have time for apologies. Victor isn’t going to want to hear any soft ass apologies. Losing this amount of money means war between the families. In one big swoop, everything we worked for is about to go up in smoke.
“Do you hear how that sounds?” I ask, looking around the room at everyone. “Does that not sound like bullshit to any one of you? Because if I’m that fucking senior citizen, Victor Fronzo, and you took my truck and found out it had over a million dollars in it, it sounds like bullshit to me. It sounds like you stole my fucking money, and that’s exactly what he’s gonna think.”
“Dominic,” Tommy chimes in, “we had everybody look everywhere before we even called you. We tried to find it. We scoured the whole fucking city and couldn’t find it. Whoever took it may have ran with it outside the city.”
“Oh wonderful!” I yell, faking excitement. “That makes me feel much better, Tommy, thank you for your fucking input!”
The room goes silent, because they all know this is about to get bad. They all have looks of worry on their faces, but worry isn’t what I feel. It just looks to me like the war between us and the Chicago Outfit is unavoidable now. I’m not afraid of it. In fact, if Alannah had never come back to St. Louis, I’d welcome it. But she is here, and I never forget that it’s her I have to protect. I have to live for her.
“Frankie,” I snip. “Call Giovanni.”
“Okay. Now?” Frankie asks, looking unsure, which bothers me more than it probably should.
“Yes,now! We have to buy more time, and the longer we wait, the more it looks like we’re just making this shit up. Right now, it’s early in the day, so tell them something important came up and we can’t spare the bodies to make the delivery today. Tell them we have the extra money, and we’ll bring it as soon as we resolve our problem.”
“Okay, but what if he asks what the problem is?”
“Don’t fucking tell him. This is Giordano family business.”
Everyone in the room looks anxious, but it’s our only option right now. We have to make Victor believe that we’re ready to bring the truck and money, but we can’t because we have important family business going on. If he calls our bluff and drives up here himself, then so be it, we’ll go to war. If he shows up in my city, I’ll put a bullet in his brain through his ear.
Frankie goes over to the bar where our landline is and dials Giovanni’s number. The rest of us sit at the table in anticipation listening to the conversation, and it doesn’t sound like it’s going well. Frankie tries to explain that we have an emergency that requires all of our attention, and I can tell Giovanni asked what it is, because Frankie is stumbling over his words like he has a stuttering problem. He apologizes one too many times, and the next thing I know, he’s looking back at me, holding the phone in my direction.
“Victor wants to talk to you.”
Everyone in the room looks at me like I’m being sent to the principal’s office as I stand up, set my cigar in my marble ash tray, and saunter to the phone.
“Victor,” I say as I place the phone to my ear. I don’t sit on the stool at the bar next to me, because I don’t expect this conversation to last long.
“Where’s my money, Dominic?” Victor inquires in his low, raspy voice.
As soon as I hear his tone, I’m immediately reminded of how I felt when Frankie and I were at his warehouse. I hear the same condescending tone I heard yesterday, and it still pisses me the fuck off.
“I’ve got a problem that requires my attention, Victor,” I reply, feeling my defensive walls going up. “It requiresourattention, so the delivery will have to wait.”
“I’ll have to wait,” I hear him repeat as if he’s telling someone who’s not on the line. I can just see the smug look on his face as he repeats my words to Giovanni. “Tell me, what is this big issue that requires the attention of everyone in your family, including the people who stole my truck and money?”
“Oh you know, it’s just that one issue that isn’t any of your fucking business, because it’s mine,” I fire back. My patience levels are at an all-time low with Victor and his arrogance. “We have your money, including the interest you put on it, but since you’re so far away, bringing it to you isn’t at the top of my priority list right now.”
The looks on the guy’s faces at the table tell me they’re on pins and needles, waiting to see how this conversation is going to end. Even Frankie looks nervous.
