Page 75 of Niccolo

The Rosolini brothers were now totally and completely alone.

And yet… they had survived the boogeyman.

How?!

I sat there in shock when I found out about Mezzasalma’s death and wondered how long the brothers’ luck could hold out.

Then I realized that maybe it wasn’t luck, but some intangible factor I couldn’t grasp merely from reading their files.

In the world of chess, all that mattered was the pieces on the board…

But in poker, you played the man, not the hand.

Perhaps I had been treating this like a game of chess when it was really more like poker.

I had been playing the board when I should have been playing ‘the man.’

“I need to meet your nephews,” I said.

Fausto looked over at me in surprise. “What in the world for?”

“I’m missing something. They have something – some quality or ability – that I won’t know until I see it for myself.”

“Luck,” Aurelio snorted.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You think luck alone explains how they beat both the Turk and Mezzasalma? Not a chance.”

“Well, you’ll have an opportunity soon enough,” Fausto said. “The girl that crashed Mezzasalma’s car woke up in the hospital, and Adriano proposed to her. Bianca, I think her name is. The wedding’s in a month or so.”

I stared at him. “Doeseveryonein the mafia get married after near-death experiences?”

Fausto chuckled. “My nephews certainly seem to. Anyway, you can go to the wedding as Aurelio’s date. That shouldn’t arouse any suspicions on their part.”

“Great,” I muttered.

Aurelio smirked. “Does that mean we should fuck first?”

“You can fuckoffif you want,” I said, then turned back to Fausto. “Why are they getting married so soon? Dario got married after a month, and now Adriano – is that another mafia tradition?”

“It is, actually,” Fausto said. “In theCosa Nostra,weddings either take forever, or they happen lightning fast. Engagements sometimes last for years because the families don’t trust each other… but marriages of passion tend to happen practically overnight. As we say, ‘None of us knows what tomorrow will bring… so we squeeze as much happiness out of whatever time we have left.’”

“So romantic,” I said sardonically.

‘Stupid’ was more like it.

Fausto laughed. He could sense my true feelings on the matter. “Some would say.”

“But itdoesgive us an opening,” I mused.

“What?”

“If the wedding’s happening that fast, they’ll be distracted. They think their enemies are all dead, so their guard will bedown. We have exactly one month to plan an all-out assault – one that will crush them for good.”

Fausto smiled deviously. “I’m listening.”

30

In the end, I proposed a simultaneous, three-pronged attack.

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