The Life - Rebirth (The Life 4)

Some may say I did it all intentionally; some would be right. He didn’t say anything until I’d finished my coffee. No sooner had the teacup hit the saucer than he got to his feet at the head of the table.

“Come with me, Gabe!” I looked at Martin, who shrugged his shoulders, then I got up and followed the old man out of the room, looking as unsure of myself as I could.

Sal took me to his study and walked to the huge windows that looked out over the grounds with his back to me as he gave whatever he was about to say some thought. “I’m so sorry; I should’ve offered to leave when things started getting bad here. I can see you’re having a hard time forming the words, but there’s no need. I’ll pack my bags….”

“I want you to move here from America. This is your home, your rightful place. What would it take?”

“Oh, wow, this is all so sudden, but I’m afraid I must refuse. My mother is still there, so are my sisters, my father, and uncles, not to mention my grandparents and my best friend.”

“No, these people are not your family, not your blood. I am. I know what Alonzo has done cannot be forgiven, but you are my blood all the same. I will repay your mother for the wrong done to her, yes, but you, you are flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. I want you close to me.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that. Not right now, maybe later. I want to finish school at least….”

“Ah, so you’re not refusing me outright, this is good.” Of course, I’m not a complete moron, but neither will I jump at the chance as if it’s what I’ve been waiting for.

“May I ask why, though? You’ve got your sons and your grandson whom you’ve known forever. Why do you need me here so badly?” He didn’t speak for a little while, just looked at me before turning back to the window.

“I think my father sent you here. And now…” He shook his head, no doubt mulling over his assumption that what was going on with Felice was somehow connected to the supernatural. I couldn’t have planned it better if I'd tried. This is what happens when you have the added advantage of spying on your opponent, and for me, my spy network doesn’t need sagacity since they’re all inanimate objects that can never betray my trust.

I knew Sal’s inner thoughts and musings because he has a tendency to talk to himself when alone in his rooms or his study. And I know what lies behind his sudden fear because of what he’s been discussing with his consigliere. Finding out the truth so far about what happened that night had reopened his eyes to what his son had been. Add the fact that not much has changed, and Sal has decided to stop turning a blind eye.

I’ve no doubt his sudden change came about because I’d hopped on the scene at a time like this. He now, according to his words, has new hope. Though he’s not yet ready to put his money where his mouth is, he’s leaning hard that way. The last little nudge won’t come for another couple of months, the thing I will do to solidify his trust in me and wrest some of the reins from Alonzo, who had been set to take over in a little while when Sal stepped down.

The thought of Alonzo’s actions coming to light and tarnishing what his father had left behind is plaguing the old man something fierce, and he sees me, his newfound, very respectable grandson, as his only hope. Of course, I’d led him to this conclusion with all the breadcrumbs I’d left in his way. Shit, some people leave America and move on to rule whole countries; why can’t I take over the Ricci family?

Felice’s screams reached us even here, and I saw his shoulders droop just a little. It’s sometimes hard to remember that Sal is getting up there in years. It’s the sparkle in his eyes, especially when dealing with me, that adds a vigor of youth. But here stands an old man. A man who has known for a long time that his son was a screwup but had no other recourse. Martin is not suitable to take over the family, let alone bring it into legitimacy, and now he’s losing all hope in Alonzo.

As for Jr., I’m not sure he was ever even in the running. According to what I’d learned in one of my eavesdropping sessions, Sal doesn’t hold out much hope for the boy. He seems to think that the mother had spoiled her son too much and in all the wrong ways. While I, his new shiny grandson, was spotless according to what he’d learned, which was only the tip of the iceberg.