Page 102 of Unholy Union
Across from Sergio sits the Consigliere Oscar Mengoni, a shrunken man who’s old as dirt with hairs coming out his ears, but wise enough Papà’s kept him for council.
The rest of the table is filled out by other capos in the family.
And then there’s me, sitting on the opposite end as my father, flanked by Lazaro on one side and Harper, my personal assistant, on the other.
Lazaro serves as a foil to Pello while Harper’s here to annotate meeting notes.
Thisissupposed to be an official business dinner. But even her presence can’t bring my father’s mood down. His spirits are high enough tonight that when Sergio suggests yet another toast, he raises his glass in solidarity.
“Salute.”
Clinking glasses echo around the table. Me, Lazaro, and Harper are the only ones who don’t join in as everybody guzzles down more red wine and inhales from their cigars.
“Did you see that article in theWall Street Journal?” Sergio asks, flashing his toothy grin. “They ran a piece this morning tying Corsini to a child labor ring outta the South Bronx. Spelled it all out, plain as day. Talk about a fucking nail in the coffin!”
He hacks out a laugh so deep that it turns into a wheezing cough, requiring a fist to his chest. His whole face glows red, eyes watering.
“Careful, Sergio!” exclaims Johnny Rico, another capo in the family. “Laugh any harder and you’ll give yourself a stroke.”
“Mind your fucking business, goombah!” Sergio barks, still half-laughing, half-choking. “Why you trying to rain on my fucking parade, anyway? This is cause for celebration—we’ve won!”
Papà hardly pays mind to their exchange. He’s focused on Harper, whose fingers are busy tapping away on her tablet.
Any other time he’s not fond of her, but it’s different when he needs information.
“You, Ms. Busybody. Remind me again of the names,” he says. “The ones who flipped.”
“Bonaduce, Williams, Chang, Tessari, and Palazzo,” Harper rattles off without even looking up from her tablet. “All confirmed within the last forty-eight hours. Their shares have already been transferred through third-party proxies. Legal's handling the paperwork.”
Pleased, my father nods and leans back in his chair, fingertips steepled over his chest.
This should be a moment that feels victorious.
This was my plan, after all. I executed it and then supervised most of the finer details as they were carried out.
But everybody’s smugness is irritating and unbearable. It’s about as pungent as the cigar smoke hazing the air.
Something about the situation still doesn’t sit right; something about it still feels too easy.
And then there’s the fact that my father, who’s never celebrated like this, sits at the head of the table like he’s finally won some long-fought war.
“With those we’ve bribed, we’ve got enough for a vote. And with Corsini’s public confidence in the toilet… well, it’s already obvious,” he muses. His mouth curls, the grin slow and venomous. “Now’s the time to strike.”
Sergio tips his glass toward me. “And your wife. She’s still got board voting power, doesn’t she? You gonna put her to use?”
Some of the other capos at the table chuckle along with Sergio between puffs of his cigar. Lazaro scowls as if tempted to introduce Sergio to his fist while Harper shifts uncomfortably on my left.
Papà stares in interest. “That’s a relevant question. What do you think, Cato? Will you finally be able to get your wife under control and to vote in our favor?”
I know bait when I see it, and that’s what’s happening now.
Every word is a hook dragged slow under the surface, waiting for blood. But I’m not one to fall for these kinds of tricks so easily.
“If our entire plan hinges on my wife,” I say coolly, swirling the wine in my glass, “then maybe it wasn’t much of a plan.”
Papà doesn’t appreciate my answer, his disapproval crawling onto his face like he’s smelled something unpleasant. It’s the same look he’d worn the night he came to my penthouse when I was shot. He’d been so disgusted he’d stared down at me like I was a filthy dog with fleas.
Which is exactly why I’ve had enough of this farce of a business dinner.
