“BECAUSE IT’S TRUE.”
“You’ve been Father’s right-hand man with his businesses for years. I don’t understand how you could ever think that when it came time, he would give them to me.”
“I’m not going to stand here and argue with a whore who spread her legs for the first man who glanced in her direction and pretended to be a knight in shining armor.”
“You watch your fucking mouth,” I snarl, stepping closer.
“Oh, now he speaks. C’mon, Lucchetti. You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. Did my slut sister tell you to not talk to me?”
The disgusting words have barely had a moment to slide off his tongue before I have Joseph up against the wall with one of my arms pressed against his windpipe, and the muzzle of my gun pressed at the base of his chin.
“Whoa, easy there, Lucchetti,” Luciano says, at the same time Vinnie cries, “Sly.”
But I’m staring into the lifeless eyes of the Paladino brother at my mercy. “If you keep referring to my wife with degrading, disgusting names, I will end you, just like I ended the pathetic excuse of a man who dared lay a hand on her. I have no problem putting you in an early grave, Joseph. In fact, it would bring me great pleasure to do so.”
Putting more pressure on his windpipe, I hold him in that uncomfortable position for a few seconds before releasing him suddenly and stepping back. I tuck my gun back into its holster under my shirt.
Seething, Joseph rubs his neck and looks at his father. “You’re just going to allow this to happen? For him to treat me likeI’ma criminal?”
Maurizio’s eyes grow colder, but he says nothing. The room stays silent for several tense moments before Joseph sweeps his arm across the top of the credenza, sending photo frames, another vase, and a small stack of decorative books crashing to the floor.
Pointing a finger at me, he yells, “You’ll fucking regret this, Lucchetti. That’s a threatanda promise.” Then he turns on his heel and stalks out of the home, sending the door slamming behind him.
Warm arms wrap around my waist as Vinnie burrows into my side, her body shaking slightly from what I hope is adrenaline and not fear. “I’m not afraid of him, piccola ladra,” I say softly, for her ears only as I pull her closer.
“I am,” she whispers back sadly.
“Sunshine, perhaps you can go check on your mother while I speak with Luciano and Sly. She’s upstairs in our bedroom,” Maurizio suggests, though it is less of a suggestion and more of a gentle dismissal.
“I’ll see her when she decides to join us, Father.”
A smile pulls at my lips, proud of how she has seemingly turned a corner with her father and is more comfortable with speaking her mind.
“Anything you would like to speak to me about, I am comfortable with my wife hearing, Maurizio.”
“It’s about the St. Jeans pressing charges.”
“All the more reason why she should hear the facts.”
Maurizio looks unhappy, but nods curtly and walks to another room, followed by Luciano, and seconds later, myself and Vincenza.
We enter a small den, which I assume is a place where Maurizio retreats privately, based on the furnishings. Two leather loveseats face each other with a chestnut-colored coffee table between them, topped with a crystal cigar ashtray and a pile of business magazines. Frames line the walls with newspaper clippings, magazine articles, and photographs of Maurizio with various businessmen, highlighting his career.
Maurizio clears his throat as we all sit. “My contacts at the NYPD have done all they can to make this go away for you, Sly, but it’s not foolproof. The St. Jeans haven’t been quiet about their feelings on you being a free man, but luckily, they don’t have the same sway Luciano and I do with the police department, or the court system for that matter.”
“I dug up some information on August’s father, and let's just say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Luciano adds. “Back in twenty-sixteen, the St. Jeans had a woman institutionalized after she came forward to Mrs. St. Jean with allegations of being physically and sexually abused by August’s father. I paid them a visit last week and let them know that unless they’d like the story resurfaced and investigated, they needed to lay this to rest just as they will their son.”
“Thanks to Luciano learning that information, I was able to bring it to my contact at the department and file a couple of backdated domestic violence reports against August on Vinnie’s behalf. It is now in writing that he was physically harming her,” Maurizio concludes.
“Thank you, Father,” Vinnie says to him with tears in her eyes. I squeeze her knee affectionately.
“How has the story not been in the news?” I ask, wondering how my name has not been dragged through the papers and gossip columns. “Surely not everyone is upholding their NDA, and August was a prominent figure in the community, as much as it pains me to say that.”
Luciano smiles widely, scoffing. “You underestimate me. In addition to the NDA, I also paid off a few reporters, who ran with a story about the wedding being called off last minute and the couple needing time to grieve the loss of their relationship in private.”
“There’s no way that is going to work.”
“It has so far. Eventually, we’ll have to schedule an interview for Vinnie with the press so she can talk about how devastated she was that August never showed up to the altar and spin a story about how an old flame from the past reignited as she was picking up the pieces of her broken heart from her runaway husband.”
