Dominic
As much as I hate to leave Alannah laying in the bed alone, I have business to tend to, so I’m up early this morning cinching up my black tie and sliding my arms into the sleeves of a dark gray jacket. I take one last glance at my sleeping beauty, and smile to myself before grabbing my keys and taking the elevator down to the parking garage, where my brand new Dodge Challenger awaits. The old school bosses usually didn’t drive themselves around, preferring to being escorted by others in a Cadillac or Mercedes, but that’s not how I get down. I’m the very definition of new school. I do shit my way, and my way is to drive an all-black Dodge Challenger with windows tinted so dark you can’t see inside, and an engine that rumbles loud enough to shake the earth beneath the feet of every pedestrian I drive past.
Time to go to work.
The destination is Lumiere Place Casino & Hotel. I don’t do much business here because I kind of like that no one knows I own the place. The less people know about how I came to be the owner of this casino, the better. So when I drive here, I don’t use the valet service at the entrance, and neither do the people meeting me. I drive into the basement and park in the underground garage, where I take the private elevator up to the conference room on the fortieth floor. When I step off the elevator, I take pride in how clean the place is. The light gray carpet under my feet is soft and clean, and the light blue walls have a nice touch to them. Owning this casino makes it to where I don’t have to do anything illegal ever again, and even though I had to take it by force, I’m proud it’s mine.
I push through the gray doors at the end of the hall, and seated at the glass table that used to occupy the Lounge, are the heads of the Giordano Family. They all stand when I enter, like soldiers ready to salute their commander, and they stay that way until I sit in my red leather chair at the head of the table.
There are five men seated in front of me, all of whom would gladly put a bullet in your face for power, respect, or money. On my right is my underboss, Tommy “Two Nines” Caprio, wearing a black jacket, under which, I’m sure, is a harness holding two nine millimeter pistols. He’s also sporting his signature scowl that would strike fear in the bravest of men.
Next to Tommy is Big Sal Bagano. His stomach seems to be getting bigger by the month, and it now looks like he’s in his third trimester of pregnancy. But Sal’s a dependable guy who’ve I’ve grown to trust over the last year.
On the other side of the table is my consigliere, Frankie Leonetti. He’s the oldest man in the room, at fifty-six, and he has more knowledge about This Thing of Ours than anybody. Frankie is a money-making genius. He even managed to become the owner of a morgue and figured out how to make huge profits from it. We haven’t had to whack many people in the last year, but when we have needed to get rid of a body, Frankie has us covered. There are people who think Frankie should’ve been the guy to become the boss after Leo got pinched, but it didn’t quite work out that way. I try to make sure Frankie knows everything between us is good as often as I can, because he’s one of the last old heads we have left, and he deserves the respect I believe he’s earned. I’m reminded of how much he’s gone through in Our Thing when I see the giant scar running down the left side of his face from a prison fight a long time ago. Frankie and I have to butt heads sometimes because we have different ways of thinking, but he’s a guy I trust, so I listen to him more often than not. Plus, he came up in Our Thing with my father, and nothing trumps that as far as I’m concerned.
Next to Frankie is John Salvatore. John still has a habit of running off at the mouth and being too flashy with the money he earns, but he’s gotten better over time. I still don’t really like the guy, but I’m the boss now and he shapes up when he’s around me, so I don’t give him too much shit.
The last guy on my right is our newest capo, Jimmy Costello. When Leo chose me as his successor, it left a hole in the Family’s hierarchy because I came up and I chose to make Frankie my consigliere. So we lost two capos at the same time, which meant we needed to fill the void left by all the repositioning. I had a meeting with all the captains a few months ago, and Frankie suggested that the oldest guy in his crew should be next to get upped. He told me all about Jimmy and how loyal he was to him, and that he was a great earner. So, after a vote between all of us at the top, we decided to make Jimmy Costello our newest capo regime.
Since Jimmy became a captain, he’s definitely held up his end of the bargain with the money he brings in, but my problem with the guy is that he’s one of the people who believed Frankie should’ve been named boss of the Family. His loyalty is with Frankie, not with me, and I don’t like that. He hasn’t caused a problem yet, but his attitude rubs me the wrong way, and every time I see his thin face with those little scars people get from adolescent acne, I want to punch him right in his mouth.
The five men take their seats in the black leather chairs, and we get our monthly meeting underway. I don’t meet with the entire family anymore, and the six of us in this room don’t meet more than once a month unless something important is going on. This is also the meeting where everybody in the Family gives me their kick up. The capos get a kick up from everyone beneath them, and then they kick up to me, so essentially, everyone is kicking up to the boss. It’s the way it’s always been in Our Thing, and I like to hold on to some traditions from the old days. We have these meetings to make sure everything is going the way it’s supposed to go and our people are doing what they’re supposed to be doing. This is how we keep order in the Giordano family. We’ve done a good job keeping order together, so it’s been an easy year so far, and I expect it to stay that way.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” I begin, placing my hands on the glass table and interlocking my fingers in front of me. “How’s everything?”
“Good, Dominic,” Big Sal answers first. “Crews seem to be doing well still. No problems to report on my end.”
“Good,” I reply, before moving my eyes to John.
“All good over here, Don Collazo,” John says. “Another quiet month for us. One of my guys got arrested a few days ago, but it wasn’t a big deal.”
“Arrested for what?” I ask. Everyone in the Family knows I don’t like anything that involves the cops, so his answer better be good.
“Nothing to worry about, Dominic,” John replies. “Just some minor drug stuff. Possession.”
Tommy and Frankie both let out nervous exhales at the same time. One of the things I’ve been most adamant about since I became the boss is that nobody in the Family uses drugs. Selling drugs to the lowlifes on the streets is one thing, but being addicted to the shit yourself is completely different. That shit is beneath us. Let themulignanskill themselves with that junk if they want, but not us.
“Possession?” I reply. “Possession of what, John?”
I can see the tension in his face and the redness in his cheeks as the words spill out of his mouth. “He had a little heroin, Dominic, but I already kicked his ass for it. He won’t do it again.”
I let out a breath to steady myself before I say anything. Frankie and Tommy glare at John, because they know he shouldn’t have let this happen in the first place. When you vouch for a guy in Our Thing, he better be a standup guy, or you might find yourself getting clipped for something the other guy did. You don’t bring dirty, untrustworthy people into the Family. This is exactly the kind of thing John has been known to do. I really don’t know how Leo ever chose this idiot to be a captain, but that was before my reign.
“John, you know the rules,” Frankie chimes in before I say anything. “I don’t wanna speak for Dominic, but you know if you don’t handle this, one of yous is gonna have a problem.”
“I know, Frankie. It’s just Michael being young and stupid. I’ve got it under control.”
“Fix it,” I snip.
John’s eyes widen. “You mean fix it, or clip the guy?”
“I don’t give a fuckhowyou fix it,” I reply. “Just fix it. I don’t wanna hear about nothing like this again.”
“Okay, Dominic,” John says, before breaking eye contact and staring at the table. He knows he fucked up letting one of his associates make him look bad. He also knows that I meant what I said. I really don’t care if he kills Michael—who I’ve never met, and probably never will because he’s so low on the totem pole—or if he just beats the shit out of him until he forgets all about heroin. But if I hear about it again, John’s going to have a problem.
“Good,” I say, bringing the issue to a close. “Now how about you, Jimmy?”
“Well, everything was fine until a couple of days ago, Dominic,” Jimmy says. He clears his throat, straightens out the jacket of his black suit, and continues. “We had a bit of a problem on Highway 44.”
