People weren’t meant to remember things forever.
No one knew how hard it was to see all the faces, from all the years, and not forget the details. No one but him understood how much people changed and how much they stayed the same. He lived it every day. He saw it every time he closed his eyes.
“Strunzu—” Carlo started cautiously.
Rationally, Nova knew it wasn’t his mother’s four-year-old baby out there missing, but to him it felt the exact same, because itwasthe same to Nova. Little Tino was every bit as real to him as sixteen-year-old Tino.
“I’m okay,” Nova lied and turned back to the mirror to run his hands through his hair one more time before the gel fully dried. “Let’s do this.”
* * * *
“Where the fuck is Rosie? Where’s my cousin?”
The voice echoed from behind the closed door. Nova frowned as he stood outside the meeting room.
“What’s in the briefcase?” Monte asked next to him.
“Shh,” Nova said quickly and leaned in to hear past the thick wood door.
The guards outside watched him do it, but no one said anything.
“You got the Moretti kid! I know you fucking got him! Move the fuck over, Lupo. We’re sitting next to Moretti, and I want Marcell and this cuntface to sit right there. That’s where I want them. Move, Lombardis! Give them your seats, ’cause I wanna fucking watch!”
“We’re not moving. This is my seat. I’m keeping it.”
“Where’s Rosie, then? Tell me where my cousin is, and you can keep the fucking seat. You called this meeting, Marcell. We all know it’s you.”
“Me. No. I called this meeting the second I found out. Itwasn’tme.”
“Lorenzo, you motherfucker, is Rosie dead?”
There was a deafening silence in the room, and Nova looked to Carlo, who mouthed,Savios.
“He brought you as a sacrificial lamb. I hope you know that, Lorenzo. I’m just gonna sit here and watch, and I’m gonna fucking enjoy it.”
Nova’s heartbeat was thundering in his ears, because he realized the Savios knew if Tino was alive or dead. A part of him wanted to run away from the reality, but he opened the door instead.
Everyone paused, even though there was the hassle of changing seats. Dante De Luca was already sitting. Young for a capo bastone, his entire body seemed tense as he looked across the table at the Brambinos.
He pointed to the empty seats next to Enzo Brambino, the Brambino Borgata’s capo bastone. “Right there, motherfuckers. That’s where the Savios sit now.”
“Is my brother dead?” Nova directed the question at the Savios. His hands were shaking again, and his voice cracked but he couldn’t help it.
“I’m a made man,” Lorenzo started.
“Shut up,” Marcell Mazza, long-standing consigliere for the Savios, growled at Lorenzo before he asked, “Where’s Aldo?”
“IS MY BROTHER DEAD?” Nova shouted at the room.
“No.” Marcell shook his head. “He’s fine. A little bruised, but fine. We have him, but he did fuck a made man’s wife. He fucked a lotta wives—” Marcell looked pointedly around the table. “That’s a death offense. Lorenzo could’ve killed him. We didn’t outta respect. Your brother’s not made. He’s not protected. We could’ve killed him immediately, but we’re taking it to the commission instead. That’s why we called the meeting.”
“Are you shitting me right now?” Nova asked them incredulously. “He’s sixteen. Those fuckers were selling him”—he pointed at Enzo Brambino—“and your wives were buying him. You cannot possibly be serious.”
“I don’t have a wife, but—” Dante De Luca shrugged and then glanced to the thick, angry-looking enforcer standing behind him. “Were any of our houses raided, Sergio?”
Sergio shook his head, his dark gaze narrowed at the Brambinos. “No, Zu.”
“De Lucas take care of our shit,” Dante said to the table. “Ours wives don’t rent kids. If his brother doesn’t get a pass—”
