Although it’s posed as a question, I know it’s not. It’s a command.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Massimo, give him a rundown on Discorso Communications,” my father says.
I listen as Massimo updates me on the operations of a communications firm I started three years ago. A company that I’ve kept a close pulse on, although I’ve not been home to oversee its daily operations. I don’t need the updates because I appointed Massimo as Director of Operations when I first decided to open the company. Despite my father's thoughts, we stay in close contact about the business.
“The cottage is ready for you,” Father says when Massimo finishes his spiel.
By cottage, he means a house I own as part of a villa that exceeds seven-thousand-square-feet. This, too, is another punishment; not being able to stay at the palace where we all stay when we return home. That’s fine with me because I don’t look forward to being in my father’s presence.
“Thank you.”
He nods and gives a brief, dismissive wave. Normally, people would depart from his presence with that simple gesture, but I need to inform him of something else. I wait until my brothers leave the room.
“Father?”
“Yes?”
“May I speak with you alone?” I ask, eyeing Elmo.
He doesn’t move until my father gives a brief nod. I wait until after he’s left and close the doors behind him. I know that my father will share every detail of our conversation with him. That’s just how much he trusts Elmo.
“There is one minor complication from the incident at Fuoco.”
The lift of one wiry, grey, and black eyebrow is all I receive.
“The man killed in my restaurant as part of the Colombo hit?”
“The intended target?”
“Yes, sir. His wife was killed, and everyone presumed his daughter was too. She’s still alive. I have been providing for her care and ensuring she stays hidden. I don’t know how much longer we can maintain her security there in Atlanta. I need to make arrangements to fly her here.”
“Cagliari? DeLuca territory?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re proposing to bring an intended target of the Colombo family here on my grounds?”
“She’s a child, Father. She’s only four, and I can guarantee her safety where I can see her. I had no idea you would be commanding me to remain here.”
“You are putting your entire family in danger by bringing her here! What concern is this of yours?” he asks, putting his cigar out.
“Her father was the nephew of a man that Uncle Aldo respected. I promised her uncle I would watch the family when he died.”
“Then what happened? How did you let a man die on your watch?”
That is the most dishonorable thing I could have done in my father’s eyes. One day I will get revenge, but it will come in time. Sharing this with him only makes me appear a bigger failure in his eyes.
“I had no idea they would violate the code, and on my territory, sir. I have dealt with my men who failed to protect them.”
“Then why are you concerned about his child? Did you father this child with his wife?”
“No, sir.”
It was no secret that many children in Cagliari who grew up in non-DeLuca households were fathered by a couple of my cousins and uncles. I didn’t respect them using other men’s wives as their toys, and I would never follow that path.
“If they learn that she’s alive, sir, the Colombo family will come after her. Her father stopped doing business with the family, which angered them. They killed Carlo Valentino and his wife to buy up the vineyard without obstacles in their path. The vineyard that Valentino inherited from his uncle has been part of the Colombo family’s money-laundering operation for at least a couple of decades now.”