Prologue
Vito
“Do whatever it takes to get this asshole taken care of,” Andre snaps, pacing outside the barn that holds some of our product.
“Don’t get me wrong, he is a fucking prick,” I shrug, “though is it the smartest choice to dispose of the assistant chief?”
Andre spins on me, getting nose to nose, “I do not give a fuck if he was the motherfucking pope. He is screwing this family over. If I let him get away with this, then who is next? Disrespect is fucking disrespect, and I will not allow someone to continue breathing when that is done. Do I make myself clear?”
I know he is not wrong, and that this is my fucking job. On the other hand, I know that we have to be smart here. We’re moving more shit than we ever have before, and the last fucking thing we need is the motherfucking Feds poking around. I choose to stay silent because I know Andre will work this out for himself. He finally steps back, rubbing a hand down his face before he paces again.
“Tell it to me straight, Vito, what should we do?” Andre finally asks, looking out over the field that meets the mountains.
Stepping up to his side and folding my arms across my chest, I respond, “I do not disagree that he needs to go. We need to make it look like an accident while still sending a message that we did it.”
“Any bright fucking ideas?” he queries, seeming to be lost in thought.
As I open my mouth to speak, one of our men interrupts, “Sir, we have the information that you asked us for.”
Holding out my hand, he places a folder in it and leaves without another fucking word. I flip the file open and find all the same shit I already knew. I continue flipping through, looking for something that we might have missed. It’s when I get to a report about a dead wife that I finally find something of interest. It’s with this new information that an idea starts to take form.
Smirking, I slap Andre on the back as I turn to walk away. “Don’t stress it, boss. I’ve got this shit covered.”
“Vito,” he snaps.
I stop walking and wait for whatever he is going to say to me next.
“I don’t rightly give a fuck how you do it but it better not fall on my family,” his words hit home when not for the first time I’m reminded that I’m not actually a member of the family but the boss’s right-hand man and expendable.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I state before continuing my trek to the waiting ATVs.
Throwing my leg over mine, I sit and flip through the file one more time to read the name that until this moment had gone completely unnoticed by everyone in the family. Committing the name to memory, I start the ATV and pull out of the clearing, throwing rock and dirt into the air as I do. It takes me about ten minutes to make it back to the large farmhouse that sits at the front of the three-hundred-acre plot of land. Slowing the ATV down, I make my way into the barn, then kill the engine and toss the keys to one of the many boys that work the property.
Andre is the head of the family, or what we call our Don, like his father and his father’s father and so on and so forth. I am his second in command or Capo. It’s my job to carry down his orders and supervise the men under and around me. I’m so lost in my thoughts as I make my way across the yard to the large farmhouse that I miss Andre’s grandfather sitting in his old rocking chair.
“What has you so lost in thought that I could have killed you before you even realized I was here?” Sylas chuckles.
My head snaps around, taking in the old man, my current and past trying to merge. “Not lost. Plotting.”
“Oh, I miss plotting. What exactly are we plotting?” His eyes light up with excitement.
Knowing that I’m not going to get away from him without a conversation, I sigh and take a seat in the rocker to his right. We rock in silence for a few moments when his next questions cause me to pause mid-rock.
“How is our boy holding up?” He’s not looking at me, but instead out toward the mountains.
“As well as you could expect given the circumstances he’s been left with,” I tell him honestly.
“That’s a vague answer, boy,” Sylas murmurs. “As I respect your loyalty to my grandson. I want you to give me an honest answer about how my boy is doing. Does the family need to be worried?”
I let the conversation I just had with Andre run through my mind.Doesthe family need to be worried about the fact that he has demanded we do away with the assistant chief of police? As much as I think the idea is out of fucking pocket, I also know it needs to happen so the family doesn’t look weak.
“The family doesn’t need to be nervous. Everyone is behind him and respects him.” Standing to my full height, I place a hand on his shoulder. “I would never let anything happen to him or the family to bring attention or disgrace.”
Sylas lays his old, wrinkled hand on mine. “You’re a good man, Vito. Thank you for always being sure and strong. Andre is going to need you in the times to come.”
I eye the old man, wondering if there is something he knows that we don’t. My need for information always wins out. “Sylas, do you know something I need to look out for? I can’t protect Andre and the family if I don’t know what’s going on.”
Sylas slowly smiles before bringing his eyes to mine. “You really are a great man for the family. Loyal, follows orders, and even thinks two steps ahead. Never falter on those, Vito.”
