He glared at me, stomped into the kitchen, and threw open a cabinet. I followed him, the front door still hanging open. He poured a glass of whiskey, threw it back, poured another.
“Dad,” I said. “What’s happening?”
“The family,” he said. “The Leones. They’re sending a representative to talk to me.”
“Oh.” I stared at him not sure what to say. “Right now?”
“Right now,” he said. “They’re coming here.”
“Shouldn’t you—”
“Have a whole lot of guns?” He stared at me. “I’ve got guys on the way.”
“You’re not starting a war right here,” I said.
“I don’t plan on shooting if they don’t.”
He poured another glass. I walked over and took it from him before he could drink. He looked shaken and I’d never seen him on edge like that before. I drank the whiskey myself and felt it burn down my throat.
“Hear them out,” I said. “Tanner thinks they’re going to make a deal.”
“Tanner’s not as smart as he thinks he is.”
“So far, he’s been pretty right.”
Dad snorted. “So you say. He’s just a hitman. I don’t know what you see in that guy.”
“He’s kept me safe.” I took the bottle from his hands. “Now, get yourself together, and—”
There was a knock from the living room. “Hello? Door’s open, you know. Anyone could walk in.”
Dad’s eyes bugged out. I gave him a look, put a hand on his arm, then turned and walked into the living room.
Two men stood in the doorway. One was tall, dark hair, dark eyes, handsome. The other was smaller and stocky. They both wore dark suits.
The taller man smiled at me. “You must be Elise,” he said.
“And you must be one of the guys that’s trying to kill me.”
He laughed. “My name’s Vincent Leone,” he said. “Son of the dreaded Don himself.” His eyes moved over my shoulder where my father stood framed in the kitchen doorway. I stepped aside as my father walked across the room toward Vincent, his eyes hard, his body held tense and ready.
All signs of anxiety were gone.
“Vincent,” Dad said. “I was wondering when I’d see you.”
“How are things?” Vincent asked. “You’re far from home.”
“That’s true,” Dad said. He held out a hand and Vincent took it. They shook and stared at each other like they were going to start murdering each other then and there. “Come inside.”
Vincent shrugged and stepped in. The stocky guy stepped out and stayed on the stoop. Dad shut the door and turned, gesturing at the table.
“Let’s talk here,” Dad said.
I sat at the far end. Vincent sat opposite me. And Dad sat to my left.
There was a long, tense silence. Vincent leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, a smirk on his lips.
“In New York, you’re hot shit, Drago,” Vincent said. “I don’t get why you’d come here, though. My family’s owned Philly for a long time.”
“My daughter’s here,” Dad said. “And it’s a new market. You guys are old and stale. I figured, why not move in, take a cut?”
“Yeah, I can understand that,” Vincent said. “That’s why I came up north. Tried to start a new family.”
“I heard you’re expanding into Chicago.”
Vincent shrugged. “Something like that.”
“And here I am, expanding into Philly. It’s a prosperous nation, after all.”
Vincent laughed and leaned forward, hands on the table. “Let’s talk business then.”
“All right,” Dad said. “What’s it going to take to make you losers leave this town?”
Vince snorted. “I was wondering the same thing.”
“I don’t plan on going anywhere,” Dad said. “See, I’ve taken a shine to Philly. I like the houses, you know? I like the food. Good cheesesteaks. Lots of shit going on in this little town. And I figure, since I’m used to a much bigger city, I can probably fit right in down here.”
“But like you said, it’s a small place,” Vincent said. “And we own it already. So you might want to think about, you know, finding another spot to live, yeah?”
“Maybe,” Dad said.
“You could always share,” I said.
Both men looked at me. Dad looked pissed, Vincent just smiled.
“Your daughter’s got a point,” Vincent said. “Philly’s small, but it’s not that small. We own most of it, but not all. There are a few spots you could make into, if you’re willing to clear out the local trash.”
“Not interested in your leavings.”
“Best I can offer you. There are a few gangs up north that give us shit from time to time, and I wouldn’t be so upset if you went and took them out, then took over their territory.”
“You want me to move in up north?” Dad snorted. “Fuck that. I want the south.”
“You can’t have it.” Vincent shook his head.
“Then the west. Give me a piece of the west. I like that school out there, what’s it called?”
“UPenn,” Vincent said. “What you wanna do, sell crack to frat boys?”
“Sure,” Dad said. “Good business. Kids are dumb as fuck.”