Page 41 of Bitter Poetry
He doesn’t wait for my reaction, just stalks toward the betting shop.
Asking myself if I’m about to be reminded of my place, I follow Jero inside.
CHAPTER 14
DANTE
It’s late. My basement office is dark, lit only by a desk lamp and the glow of my computer screen. The desk in front of me is strewn with open ledgers and a half-drunk glass of whiskey.
Jimmy based his headquarters here at his nightclub, Peppermint Moon, which is part of a new purpose-built marina and leisure complex. It seemed sensible to stick with it for now while I’m finding my feet.
The dull thump of bass leaks through from the nightclub above—the cursor blinks on the screen, waiting. Reports, numbers, and projections of profits had Jimmy not been skimming. I’ve been living in this fucking room. And all the while trying to stay focused on the big picture, and not what Ettore is doing with my woman.
Does the distraction work?
Not really, but I don’t have any other choice.
My expectations were low on arrival, but reality has proven to be far worse. Jimmy was well-liked, probably because every asshole in his employment was lining their own pockets. News ofhis demise has been greeted by a full spectrum of responses from disbelief to outright hostility.
Aside from drugs, Jimmy was the king of money laundering, handling it for the broader business and other capos. There are dozens of tiny companies: strip clubs, dry cleaning, barbers, convenience stores… he’s even got three landscaping companies and a small construction firm, one of which is currently building Ettore’s new garage.
You can bet he won’t pay me, cash or otherwise, for the work.
I’ve been connected to this family for a long time and in many ways, and I’m familiar with all aspects of the business, including the concerns formerly run by Jimmy. But it looks different when you’re on the ground. I’m probably being hard on myself, but I thought I’d be further along by now, that I would see a light at the end of the corruption tunnel. Especially now Leon is here.
After reviewing what we have and where we are, Leon laid out the facts on what was possible, with a heavy margin of variability, because these are early days and we need to plan for unknowns derailing us.
The more I settle into my new position, the more I understand the magnitude of the task ahead of us.
And the amount of time. It’s going to take a lot of time.
I shut down the chain of thought before I do something stupid. There’s a gun in my office safe. I put it there because I still believe a capo shouldn’t be the one wielding a gun, and I have men better suited and more capable at that side of the business than me.
But I’ve also put it there because I’ve found myself in my car, driving, with murder on my mind. Opening the safe takes me long enough to talk myself down from the self-destruct ledge.
I sip the whiskey and put the glass back on the table. I’ve barely touched alcohol since I moved here. My sleep is abysmal. More than a few people will be wishing me dead.
In five days, Carmela will marry Ettore.
I’ve imagined shooting him, strangling him, peeling every inch of skin from his body, setting him on fire, and blowing him up. Clearly I’ve spent too much time around Christian, and his questionable, dark web diet and his personality are rubbing off.
A knock sounds on the door, and Leon enters. It’s become a routine for him to stop by my office most evenings. Sometimes, it’s a brief update on the nightclub or neighboring gentleman’s club, Gigi’s, which, officially, he runs. And sometimes, it’s a much more in-depth conversation on our unofficial objective—to take Ettore down.
“Never thought I’d end up managing a nightclub,” Leon says, his hands sliding into the pockets of his dress pants.
“I never thought I’d be a capo, yet here we are… How’s business tonight?”
“Steady. A couple of minor incidents, but nothing concerning. Heard anything from Christian? What about Ettore?”
“Not Christian. Yes, Ettore.”
His lips tighten. “What did the dick want?”
“To remind me that I need to make an appearance at his wedding… as one of his groomsmen.”
I told Leon that I met Carmela at her house on her birthday: not the full details, but enough that he got the gist we did more than speak.
He told me I was ‘fucking stupid’, ‘a selfish prick’, and that I should ‘consider the consequences for her’. He also said that just because my ‘idiot brother’ put temptation in front of me, was not an excuse for ‘losing my head’.
