Valentino had deliberately allowed the others to catch a glimpse of the strangers leading his trusted younger capos to an unknown location. That would just enhance the mystery surrounding him. He had defeated Miceli’s army at the lake house and turned the police investigation back on Miceli. He didn’t appear to be at death’s door. He had ferreted out three of the worst traitors in the organization. He had use of a luxury hotel and knew his way around in it. He had seemingly made allies of a family long sought after by not only the Saldis but many of the other families throughout Chicago and other states, and in other countries. For Valentino to have pulled it off signaled a major feat.
Valentino knew Emmanuelle and her family were somewhere hidden in the shadows. They’d heard every word of Parisi’s speech. The worst of it was, in some ways it was the truth. It was a coup to have Emme tied to him and an alliance formed with the Ferraro family. Every one of her brothers would hear that and be upset on her behalf. Elie Archambault would be angry as well. And what of Emme? She was looking for reasons why they shouldn’t be together. She also had her doubts about Val’s sincerity when it came to why he’d tied her to him. He pushed all that out of his mind. He had to conduct business. Go forward.
“We are at war, gentlemen, but I expect business as usual. Your soldiers will carry on just as they normally would. They will learn to be on alert at all times and watch each other’s backs. As for Miceli and his attempt to kill my father and me, we will retaliate and take over his businesses. Everything. We will be raiding each of Miceli’s businesses and taking them down. Already, we’ve stripped his bank accounts, including his offshore ones. He’ll need his capos to pay him from those businesses, and we’re taking those away from him.”
Dario suddenly moved up behind one of the capos sitting on the left side. He had been a man they were on the fence about. Dario reached around him and took a cell phone from his hands and tossed it onto the table in front of Val. When the man tried to reach for a weapon, Dario stopped him, a knife to his throat. He leaned in close.
“I’ll be visiting your family, Arturo, you treacherous fuck. Kill them all? Kill everyone in the room? Does that mean you, too? Or are you wearing this red tie so they’ll know who you are?” Dario didn’t wait for an answer. He slit the man’s throat and then, as he let go, slammed the blade into the back of his skull.
Valentino reached for the cell. The message to Angelo Saldi, Miceli’s son, was clear, although even though Arturo had hit send, the message hadn’t gone out. It had been blocked by those keeping watch in the control room. Arturo’s body slowly slumped forward. The capo beside him shoved him down and onto the floor.
Val still faced over forty capos, most of whom his father had “made,” which meant he was still in quite a bit of danger. The territory was large, and they needed men for legitimate and illegitimate businesses. Most of the captains ran their own crews separately and rarely interacted with one another. Meetings such as this one, bringing them all together, were rare for a reason. One traitor knowing of such a meeting and giving the location could have a team of assassins suddenly showing up. If any of the others were in on the conspiracy to wipe out the rest of the Saldi men, they weren’t wearing red, or any distinguishing clothing that Val could see.
“Severu Catalano.” He beckoned the man to whom Dario and he had been the closest as they had grown up. Severu was a couple of years older than them, and had been in the organization longer, but he had proven his loyalty to both many times. He was calm, intelligent and not afraid to oppose Valentino’s point of view if he honestly thought he was wrong. He was good at strategy, at not missing details. Like Valentino, he had served in the military, and he was utterly cold and ruthless when need be.
Severu stood up slowly and walked around the table to come to Valentino’s side. He looked puzzled and had a shade of wariness in his brown eyes, but otherwise moved right up to face Val. He didn’t look to see where Dario was, nor did he have a hand near his weapons.
“It appears, Severu Catalano, that I am in need of an underboss. I didn’t have the time to discuss it with you ahead of time. The position is for life and carries tremendous responsibilities.” Valentino stared intently into Severu’s eyes. They’d known each other a long time. This was a dangerous role he was asking of his friend. The man, like Val, like Dario, would always have a target on his back.