Page 29 of Forgotten Deeds

“‘Talked Nicky into taking a nap?’” Sammy snorts a laugh. “You locked her in your bedroom.”

“And she’s taking a nap. Eight ball, corner pocket,” he calls before sinking the shot.

Sammy curses, throwing down a stack of hundreds.

“Any problems with the cleanup?” Romeo asks me, placing his cue stick on the rack.

“Nope. Smooth as silk.” Not a lie, as Lily isn’t a problem. A challenge? Hell yes, one I’m up for. “What’s going on with Philly?”

“Sent their piece of shit boss back to them.” Romeo growls.

“In pieces,” Sammy adds with a devious smile. “Word is there’s infighting. Carlo had no son, and his underboss and a capo are vying for the top spot.”

“Burn the fucking city down for all I care, I just don’t want it bleeding over into my territory,” Romeo declares. Walking over to his suit jacket draped over the couch, he reaches inside the inner pocket and pulls out an envelope. “A little extra for a job well done.”

“Thanks, boss,” I tell him, accepting the envelope of cash and sticking it in the waistband of my shorts.

“Let’s everyone take a few days to breathe before we jump back into the grind,” Romeo declares. “And putting a bullet between John Davis’ eyes will be the number one priority.”

“On it. And while I’ve got your ear, I wanted to share the news: I got married a few days ago.” According to the date on our marriage license.

“There’s a woman crazy enough to marry your ass?” Sammy marvels.

“Turns out there is.” Lily just needed a little coaxing.

“Didn’t know you were serious about a woman. Congrats,” Romeo says, hugging me with a hard black slap.

“Congrats, man,” Sammy says, likewise giving me a half hug, half back slap.

“Thanks. I was wondering if I could ask a favor?” I put in my request.

“Done,” the boss says. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Lily Grant.”

“Lily Grant,” Sammy parrots the name.

“Before you go looking into my wife, she has a four-year old daughter, so please don’t scare them,” I warn him.

“Have you vetted them?” Sammy asks.

“Yes.” The only stone I haven’t turned over is about Lily’s piece of shit ex, but that’s easy enough to remedy.

“Good,” Romeo says. “Bring your wife to Sunday dinner. I know the women will want to meet her.”

“God, I can already smell the estrogen,” Sammy mutters.

“Might want to take a bath if the odor’s that strong,” I taunt.

“Already had a nice bath. With your mother.” He smirks. “She likes candles and soft music.”

“Fuck you,” I say, cracking my knuckles.

“No thanks,” Sammy says, now picking his nails with a knife—like I’m supposed to be fucking impressed. “I don’t want to keep it in the family like that, if you know what I mean.”

“Enough,” Romeo says, bored with our back and forth. “I need to finalize Antonio’s funeral arrangements.”

“Sorry for your loss,” I tell him. Not sorry Antonio’s dead, because he was an asshole.

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