Page 117
Story: Arranged
The door was pitched open and Enzo rushed inside. “You fucking bastard.”
He came at me with both barrels, taking a hard swing. I allowed him to make a single connection for his sake if nothing else before easily grabbing him around the neck. I spun him around, holding him tightly. The kid was still gangly, yet to bulk out as his father had done.
“Enzo. You need to calm down,” I told him.
“I’m not going to calm down. You’re not taking over as Don. I forbid it.”
The kid was stronger than he looked, almost managing to escape my hold.
I glared at the attorney, who took a deep breath.
“His son had a right to know,” Whitfield dared tell me.
There were already four soldiers in the room after hearing the outburst. That meant news would travel fast. I’d need to have a conversation with Don Lupini before too much additional time had passed.
“We’re going to talk about this, Enzo. Trust me, I’m learning more about your father’s last wishes myself.”
“Fuck you! You’re not my Don or my father.”
I finally let him go, uncertain how to handle the kid. There were others now watching me, waiting to see what I’d do. “I didn’t want your father to die, Enzo. He was good to me as he was to everyone who worked for him. I know you’re upset, but now isn’t the time to overreact. You know your father well enough to know he worked very hard to make his company profitable. It sounds crass, but business must go on even in the face of tragedy. Why don’t you head to your room and we’ll talk about this later.”
“You murdered him.”
This was the kind of shit I didn’t need at this point. “No, I did not. Your father had a heart condition. He died of a heart attack.”
“You’re such a lying sack of shit. You wanted this. You wanted to take his command. I knew that from the day I met you. I will destroy you.” Enzo was nothing if not overly dramatic.
He rushed from the room, but not before smashing his fist against the wall.
Gio looked at me as did the others.
“Nothing changes, gentlemen. We still have a business to run, an alliance to work with, and someone breathing down our necks. I want results. Find the person responsible.”
“Yes, sir,” Gio offered.
Carmella suddenly appeared, weaving her way through the men. Her face was pinched.
“As you can see, Mr. Whitfield. Now isn’t a good time. Why don’t you leave everything and you and I will have a further discussion in a couple days.”
The attorney nodded, glancing only once in Carmella’s way. “I also neglected to say congratulations are in order. I apologize for missing the wedding.”
“Not a problem, Mr. Whitfield. We all have busy lives. Thank you for coming.”
He left the files and grabbed his things, heading for the door.
“Please close the door behind you,” I told him.
After he did, Carmella finally took slow steps in my direction.
“How are you holding up?” I asked.
“I don’t know. We need to talk. First, can I trust you? I mean trust you with my life and that of my son? Or are you going to disappear or worse, hurt us?”
I couldn’t believe she was asking me that now. Something else was wrong. I placed my hands on her arms, pulling her closer. “I want you to hear me, Carmella. I adore you. I adore your son. We’ve already connected in a way two people often never achieve in a marriage. You can very much place your trust in me. I will keep my promise to you. You can feel safe with me.”
“Okay. Then I need to tell you something.”
“You can tell me anything.”
He came at me with both barrels, taking a hard swing. I allowed him to make a single connection for his sake if nothing else before easily grabbing him around the neck. I spun him around, holding him tightly. The kid was still gangly, yet to bulk out as his father had done.
“Enzo. You need to calm down,” I told him.
“I’m not going to calm down. You’re not taking over as Don. I forbid it.”
The kid was stronger than he looked, almost managing to escape my hold.
I glared at the attorney, who took a deep breath.
“His son had a right to know,” Whitfield dared tell me.
There were already four soldiers in the room after hearing the outburst. That meant news would travel fast. I’d need to have a conversation with Don Lupini before too much additional time had passed.
“We’re going to talk about this, Enzo. Trust me, I’m learning more about your father’s last wishes myself.”
“Fuck you! You’re not my Don or my father.”
I finally let him go, uncertain how to handle the kid. There were others now watching me, waiting to see what I’d do. “I didn’t want your father to die, Enzo. He was good to me as he was to everyone who worked for him. I know you’re upset, but now isn’t the time to overreact. You know your father well enough to know he worked very hard to make his company profitable. It sounds crass, but business must go on even in the face of tragedy. Why don’t you head to your room and we’ll talk about this later.”
“You murdered him.”
This was the kind of shit I didn’t need at this point. “No, I did not. Your father had a heart condition. He died of a heart attack.”
“You’re such a lying sack of shit. You wanted this. You wanted to take his command. I knew that from the day I met you. I will destroy you.” Enzo was nothing if not overly dramatic.
He rushed from the room, but not before smashing his fist against the wall.
Gio looked at me as did the others.
“Nothing changes, gentlemen. We still have a business to run, an alliance to work with, and someone breathing down our necks. I want results. Find the person responsible.”
“Yes, sir,” Gio offered.
Carmella suddenly appeared, weaving her way through the men. Her face was pinched.
“As you can see, Mr. Whitfield. Now isn’t a good time. Why don’t you leave everything and you and I will have a further discussion in a couple days.”
The attorney nodded, glancing only once in Carmella’s way. “I also neglected to say congratulations are in order. I apologize for missing the wedding.”
“Not a problem, Mr. Whitfield. We all have busy lives. Thank you for coming.”
He left the files and grabbed his things, heading for the door.
“Please close the door behind you,” I told him.
After he did, Carmella finally took slow steps in my direction.
“How are you holding up?” I asked.
“I don’t know. We need to talk. First, can I trust you? I mean trust you with my life and that of my son? Or are you going to disappear or worse, hurt us?”
I couldn’t believe she was asking me that now. Something else was wrong. I placed my hands on her arms, pulling her closer. “I want you to hear me, Carmella. I adore you. I adore your son. We’ve already connected in a way two people often never achieve in a marriage. You can very much place your trust in me. I will keep my promise to you. You can feel safe with me.”
“Okay. Then I need to tell you something.”
“You can tell me anything.”
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