Page 88 of Niccolo (Mafia Kings #7)

Sofia

O ne morning, Fausto called me into the main room of the farmhouse. He’d just gotten word from the mole that Niccolo and Valentino were flying to a place called Taormina.

“What?” I asked, surprised. “Why?”

“To see Don Vicari, the boss who runs all of Sicily,” Fausto said darkly.

According to the mole, Niccolo and Val were going to negotiate a deal with Vicari, but Niccolo was afraid of being double-crossed. He’d sworn the mole to secrecy and asked if he would accompany Adriano to Sicily if they needed to be rescued.

“What kind of deal could they be negotiating?” I asked.

“Probably something where Vicari backs them at the Council,” Fausto said angrily. “Or maybe they’ll try to enlist the Sicilians against me, the same way we hired the Wagner group.”

“Is that really a problem?” I asked dubiously.

“It’s a big fucking problem.”

“Why?”

“Mercenaries might be better with guns, but none of them are going to willingly die for a paycheck. When push comes to shove, they’ll run.

“But if Vicari orders his men to knowingly go on a suicide mission, they’ll do it without a second thought. So, yes – my money’s on the Sicilians.”

“…oh.”

That did sound bad.

“But I don’t understand why Vicari would do it,” Fausto muttered to himself as he paced back and forth. “Other than the Widow of Venice, he’s richer than anyone in the Cosa Nostra – and my nephews don’t have the money to pay him off.

“Maybe he wants to expand to the mainland, the same way Mezzasalma did? Maybe he thinks he can succeed where Mezzasalma failed – by striking a bargain with my nephews instead of trying to kill them?”

Fausto stopped pacing and turned to me.

“I need you to go to Taormina to intercept Niccolo.”

“Why?!”

“You’ve been working on seducing him, haven’t you? See if you can get him to reveal what the hell he’s cooking up with Vicari.” Fausto grinned. “Tell him you’re this close to accepting his offer, but you need absolute assurance you’ll end up on the winning side.”

“But if I show up in Taormina unexpectedly, he’ll know for sure he has a mole.”

“He already knows that. Don’t worry about it.”

Something felt off, though.

“This guy you have on the inside – is he some kind of badass or something?” I asked.

Fausto frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Is he the most capable of all your nephews’ foot soldiers? Is he the kind of man you’d send in singlehandedly against a bunch of Sicilians to rescue somebody important?”

“No, but they don’t have Massimo or Lars, and Adriano will need backup,” Fausto said dismissively. “Niccolo mentioned all of that to the mole.”

“So you’re saying Niccolo just happened to mention a place to meet, a vague but compelling mission, and an excellent reason why your man was the only one chosen for the job.”

Fausto grimaced as he realized what I was getting at. “…he’s trying to smoke out the mole… he probably told every foot soldier a different town.”

“That’s how I’d do it.”

“You see? That’s why I need you as consigliere,” Fausto said. “I was so worried about Niccolo visiting Don Vicari that I couldn’t see the forest for the trees.”

I thought Fausto should have seen through the ploy regardless, but I kept that opinion to myself.

Fausto stared out into space for a few seconds… then shrugged. “You should go to Taormina anyway.”

“What?!”

“I need to know what they’re planning.”

“Don’t you have somebody in Vicari’s organization you can ask?!”

“No, I don’t. Vicari has a knack for killing off spies.”

“But once Niccolo knows who the mole is, your nephews will kill him!”

“Can’t be helped.”

“It most certainly can be helped! I just don’t go!”

“Not an option.”

“Is this really so important that you’re willing to sacrifice your one source of intel?” I asked desperately. I didn’t want to be responsible for the man’s death.

“Let me put it to you this way,” Fausto said.

“Of all the Cosa Nostra families who might partner with my nephews, there’s only one I truly fear – and that’s Don Vicari.

If Niccolo has found a way to get him as an ally, this could be the thing that destroys us.

So yes, I need to know – no matter the cost.”

“…alright,” I murmured, though I didn’t like the idea one bit.

Not even the prospect of seeing Niccolo again could assuage my guilt over the mole’s impending death.