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Chapter Eleven

Franco propped his feet on the coffee table, being careful not to scratch the gold inlaid figurines with the heel of his shoe. He grabbed a remote and punched one of the buttons. Vertical blinds whooshed open, revealing the best view of the bay money could buy.

As long as he could look at the bay any time he chose, he couldn’t care less what the inside of his mansion looked like.

He’d given carte blanche to his wife, Carmen , to decorate the place.

His only stipulation was that it had to look expensive.

After all, a man’s house should reflect his title.

Carmen had done her characteristically impeccable job.

Italian marble floors gleamed everywhere on the main level.

Rich silk drapes hung from the picture windows.

The overstuffed down pillow furniture was covered in imported European fabric and had gleaming wooden feet that reminded him of eagle talons.

Velvet pillows with gold frilly things dangling from the edges were part of what Carmen lovingly referred to as “accessories.” Ridiculously expensive accessories, but as long as they’d been married, he’d never been able to deny his wife a thing. Nor did he want to.

A strong wind had kicked up and whitecaps covered the bay. The water was alive, a living breathing entity that answered to no one. Just as he, Franco Falzone , answered to no man.

“ Franco .” Carmen stood with her hands on her trim hips, partially blocking his view. “ How many times have I asked you not to put your feet on the coffee table? It’s an antique and the beautiful gilding is original.”

“ I’m sorry, sweet.” He rose to take his wife’s fragile hand and hold it to his lips. “ You are more beautiful than any gilding and as lovely as the day I married you.” That had been over forty years ago, and she was still the love of his life.

Carmen’s graying chestnut hair piled high on her head reminded him of an upside down seashell. She smiled, a shrewd, knowing look shining in her lovely green eyes. “ And you still know exactly what to say to get yourself out of hot water.”

He laughed. “ You know me too well.” It was one of the things he cherished about her.

“ I do,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen. “ Cook says lunch is in ten minutes.”

Franco watched her disappear into the kitchen.

Through the fluted columns flanking the dining room, he glimpsed Tino’s young wife, Maria , setting the twelve-foot-long table.

Lingering shadows still marred her pale skin from the last time Tino used her face as a punching bag.

The fear in her eyes when Tino was around disgusted him.

She’d scurry away like a frightened animal whenever her husband was near.

Traditional Italian families like his frowned upon divorce, but Franco had half a mind to help the poor woman disappear with a hefty sum of cash he would be more than happy to provide.

Sadly , his son would only track her down and beat her to a pulp.

That was, if he didn’t kill her outright.

At least this way, Franco could keep an eye on things.

Maria caught him staring and immediately came over, plastering a wan, though genuine, smile on her face. “ Can I get you anything, Franco ?” She tucked a strand of her long dark hair behind her ear, inadvertently giving him a close-up of the purple mark high on her cheekbone.

“ No , thank you, honey.” He returned her smile, but inside he seethed. How could he have spawned an animal such as Tino ?

As Maria headed back to the dining room, he sighed heavily. The woman was once quite vibrant and lovely. Now she was pale, bruised, skinny, and lifeless.

Acid churned in his gut as he ran through the growing list of clusterfucks he had to deal with because of his son.

Tino still hadn’t nailed the thieves, and time was running out before the big meeting.

Even Rocco had to abandon his apartment after it was hit three days ago.

If a burglar could get in, so could the FBI to plant one of those listening devices.

Though he hadn’t found it, Rocco suspected they had, and he’d already found another place to stay.

Franco slammed his fist down on the armrest. All five Families operating in the northeast knew damned well someone was stealing from Falzone soldiers.

That kind of news hit the rumor mill and kept right on running.

He needed to strut into the Commission meeting with decisive news that these thieves had not only been caught but appropriately dealt with.

He also needed that FBI agent off his ass pronto, but not the same way as the first one.

Snuffing an FBI agent was the stupidest thing his son had ever done. They could have dealt with that undercover rat some other way. A quieter way. All Tino accomplished was to piss off the entire FBI , particularly Jack Gates .

The man was a pit bull and smart, way smarter than any fed had a right to be. The guy’s constant vigilance and persistence was another thorn in his ass. How could one agent put such a dent in his family’s business?

“ Dammit .” If it came down to it, he might have to order a hit on Gates . Not ideal, but if the man continued to come between him and his one and only opportunity to secure a Commission seat, well... What was one more dead fed?

His cell rang with the theme from The Godfather .

“ What do you have for me?” He craned his neck to check for prying ears.

“ Nothing . All’s quiet.”

For once, Franco thought wryly. “ Keep an eye on Tino and report to me directly. After this thing Saturday night, I’ll be out of town, but not far away in case that other thing goes down.” This thing, being the charity event. That other thing , being the Commission meeting.

All code used to protect against listening devices and turncoats. In the event the FBI flipped one of his soldiers or they missed a bug, all the government would get was worthless conversation about this thing, that thing, or this or that guy.

“ Got it.”

“ Be extra careful when you guys meet at that place Sunday night.” That place being Tino’s shore house where Franco’s soldiers met once a month for turn-ins—cash made from jobs pulled during the previous month.

“ Yeah , I know.”

Franco ended the call. He felt as if he’d aged ten years in the last month. He loved Tino . Sadly , he trusted the man he’d just spoken to more than his own son.