Page 39 of The Crowned Garza
“Listen,boy, I might be dying, but I’m still the goddamn head ofla famiglia.Don’t you come barging into my room in the middle of the night questioning me about shit!”
Sturdily defensive. Means he did something. Made a deal, maybe. Most likely a bad one. “I told you not to let the Morettis know you’re sick. Why am I yourconsigliereif you won’t listen to me? Do you not trust me?”
He hacks out another wet cough, and this time blood tinges the handkerchief. “What I don’t trust is this supposed ‘big plan’ that onlyyouknow about. This plan that’s got you being a yes man to a bunch of half-breeds. You are a fucking Luciani. My son—”
His words dissolve in a series of wheezing coughs. Happens whenever he gets worked up. But there’s no point telling him not to.
When he recovers, he continues, “I know you’re probably following some harebrained advice from your uncle. Thatstronzothinks he’s so much smarter than everyone else, but all he does is hide behind the Rossetti name. Let that bastard step out of his pretty castle and try being a Luciani for one fucking day.” He wipes at his mouth. “Look, boy, from what I understand, you’ve been sissying out at that company for however many damn years now with nothing to show for it. So the answer is no, I don’t trust what you tell me anymore. I’m one foot in the grave. I must act in the best interest ofla famigliabefore I’m gone.”
Franco Luciani has never been a long-game, big-picture kind of man. Patience, logic, or good business acumen aren’t things he’s familiar with. Rash and unpredictable, he leads with ego, impulse, intimidation, and unthinkable violence.
Even in his glory days, Eleanora Rossetti was the brains behind the Don. Wicked smart, excellent leadership skills, obscenely wealthy, queen of her own empire. The rise of the Luciani Family was attributed entirely to the marital union with the Rossetti Family, one of the wealthiest, most prestigious families inItalia.
For a time, Eleanora lost herself in Franco, allowed him to break her down. Chained her in a corner because, as a Don, he couldn’t stand that she was more highly regarded than him, that she was a better leader than him in all aspects, that all his advantages were tied to her. He tried to make a docile, seen-and-not-heard servant out of a queen.
Until Mamma woke the fuck up and left him.
I was nine at the time and Papa’s least favorite. My older siblings are from his first wife. While my brother ensnared rats and birds to torture them, showed an early interest in guns and cars, and constantly got into violent fights, I was the opposite. Reticent, aloof, detached, and needed glasses to see. I liked computers and technology. Liked taking things apart to see what made them work then putting them back together in various ways. I liked reading anything that taught me something new. Liked magic tricks, masks, capes, and knives.
For Papa, I was a “sissy” and a “disappointment.” He openly, loudly, vehemently hated me. Knocked me around just because, especially when he was inebriated and Mamma wasn’t around. He’d put his gun to my head and tell me that I’d die first because I’m a pussy. That maybe he should be the one to kill me for being such an embarrassment and save himself the trouble down the line. That I didn’t deserve the Luciani name. When Mamma left him, he told her to take me back toItaliawith her so he could forget I exist.
His pride and joy was my brother, Beppe, while my sister, Iseppa, was his future alliance card.
With the Rossetti ties broken and the brains behind the Luciani operations gone, things slowly started to devolve.
Eight years later, Beppe died in an illegal street racing accident. Two years after that, Papa was diagnosed with stage four cancer. Which led to my being called back here to step in while he underwent chemotherapy.
Shipping me off toItaliahad been the best thing Papa could’ve done for me. The Rossettis are a sharp, driven, business-savvy family. Their wealth comes from legitimate, legal avenues, not crime. Life is different there. An entirely different environment and experience. Being a Rossetti means always learning, always growing and advancing, always contributing, always expanding.
My uncle, Adamo, is the most brilliant man I’ve ever known, a mad genius. I idolized him growing up there. Everything I was interested in, he already mastered it. I wanted to be like him, wanted to possess even a pint of his sheer brilliance, so I shadowed him wherever he went, learning and greedily absorbing.
When I came back to stand in, the Luciani affairs were a disaster. Mismanaged funds, neglectedfamiglie, senseless squabbling that led to violence against each other. Deep involvement with the cartel. And many who hadn’t been on board with getting involved with the cartel had left and pledged their loyalties elsewhere.
My work was cut out for me. But my confidence was unwavering simply because of who taught me, who believed in me. In the two and a half years that I took over, I succeeded with a lot more than I anticipated. Did a complete overhaul of the Luciani operations.
Two failing restaurants became four successful high-end restaurants and two pizzerias.
Sold the money-pit winery in Sonoma Valley and invested in farming instead—soybean, chickpeas, avocados, and olives.
Invested in several apartment complexes and rented out the units to carefully launder all the dirty money.
Mended a string of broken partnerships that ended in bad faith.
Signed a remarkably lucrative deal with a large manufacturer to start our own brand of “organic” hummus, soy milk, guacamole paste, and olive oil.
Once more and more legitimate positions and opportunities became available, enough to hire otherfamiglieto work for us, I embarked on the most arduous task of all. Breaking ties with the cartel.
It was messy, bloody, but we succeeded in the end.
La Cosa Nostradoesn’t have as much power and influence in California as it once did. Many migrated to the East Coast a long time ago. There are only a handful of organized families remaining, the largest and most powerful being the Moretti Family and the Luciani Family.
The cartel runs things here, controls the border, stifles and thwarts all endeavors ofLaCosa Nostra.Leave them no choice but to defer and get in bed with them.
That’s why I worked tirelessly to get us into a financially strong and stable position before initiating severing ties. I needed the familiesto be confident they would be able to survive without the cartel.
The millions of dollars I earn being a “yes man” at Red Cage keep this empire on solid footing. Fund the growth and expansion of the Luciani legacy. But Papa doesn’t see it like that. He’s stuck in the old ways of doing things. Has no idea how to pivot and recalibrate.
I scratch my jaw. “And what doyouthink is in the best interest ofla famiglia, Papa?”
