Chapter 102: Chapter Forty-Seven

Phoenix

There weren’t enough curse words on the planet for what was about to take place.

It was early, around seven a.m., when I got the call I was expecting.

I drove, with my hands gripping the steering wheel like a vise, and when I made it to Nixon’s and saw all the nice cars parked—the suits; the what seemed like hundreds of suits…

I questioned my own judgment.

I was helping bring down my old family.

I was helping build a new strong arm of the five families.

This was what it was about.

Because at the end of the day it wasn’t just about a love affair for Andrei, it was about keeping my blood safe, my friends, my family, my wife, my child.

I would not apologize for that.

For using the knowledge I had to force their hands.

To force his.

I slammed the door to my car and casually made my way into Nixon’s. Wine was already on the table despite the early hour.

Several black suits seemed out of place against the old Mediterranean style furniture. A sea of them, all waiting for me, waiting for the final call.

Everyone was tense, rigid in their posture despite the wine that was waiting on the table.

I imagined half of the men in there had twitchy fingers ready to reach for their guns, I also imagined that this was the moment that would define the next generation.

The rest of the guys gave me a knowing look, probably because I wasn’t surprised. I had, after all, made the call to the Sinacore Family.

And there they were.

The underboss, who had stood in for the last decade, because it was said that he would stand in until the rightful heirs took their place, he refused to step up regardless of the outcry to be named boss.

“Drinking already?” I nodded to the bottle. “Must have been some flight.”

Louis Sinacore, the underboss, gave me a placating smile. “Where is he?”

“Probably sleeping like everyone else at this godforsaken hour,” Tex said under his breath.

Louis said nothing. Tex was still the Capo; even the Sinacores reported to him, and even more so now that they weren’t in Sicily.

They were in the US.

They were of equal power to each of the families in the Cosa Nostra. The only difference was the blood that ran through their veins.

It was ridiculous that people would think they held extra power just because they hailed from the last living royalty in Italy, but people were superstitious.

Needed it.

And the Sinacore Family had given it.

“Phoenix,” Nixon said through clenched teeth, his lip ring glistening in the early morning light. “Care to explain why we have visitors?”

“Sure,” I said slowly. “I made a call.”

“Obviously.” This from a tense-looking Chase.

I sighed and crossed my arms. “The De Langes were working with the Russians, with Alexander Petrov, with Ivan, one of his last men. They reopened their prostitution rings. Three of them.

“They went back on their word, we’d given permission for Chase to do a cleansing of the lines, but we weren’t going to eliminate all of them, it made no sense at the time, we just wanted them to believe we were going to in order to keep them in line.” I swallowed.

“Now…” Louis nodded, his expression inscrutable. “You need a replacement.”

I swallowed the knot of anxiety in my throat. “We’re always stronger as five families.

“They’ll keep trying to enter into the fold every time, unless we replace them with someone stronger, scarier, more…” I shrugged. “Royal.”

“So that’s where they come in?” Nixon talked like the Sinacores weren’t even in the room, arrogant bastard. I loved him for it. “Why couldn’t we just call a hit on every last De Lange?”

“A massacre?” I nodded. “Yeah, we could do that, and then our own people fear us more than they already do, which isn’t necessary.

“Let the new family come in and create a reputation for themselves, let them create the bloodbath.

Dante raised his hand. “Not to put a damper on world domination here, and no disrespect…” The kid just oozed disrespect, but whatever. “But they have no boss.”

Louis shifted in his seat.

It was common knowledge that they’d been without a boss for years.

Because they’d been inactive.

They’d been laying low in Sicily, they’d been a figurehead.

“It’s time to wake the beast,” I said with deathly calm.

Louis’s jaw tightened, the men sitting stood.

“It’s time,” I said again. “To remind the rest of the world who the Sinacore Family is, and what they will do to those who defy them.”

I reached for a glass of wine and twisted it in my fingers. “To answer your question, they have a boss, a powerful one that will combine two families who desperately need it.”

Sergio stilled.

I could see the shift in Chase’s stance.

Nixon gave me a curious look.

“Andrei Petrov,” I whispered, “is their heir.”

The drop of a single pin would have sounded like an explosion in that room.

So, I lifted the glass high. “To the new Cosa Nostra, may she be as strong as she once was, to the new arm of the five families, The Sinacore—Petrovs.”

“Fuck,” Tex muttered under his breath.

As we toasted to the families.

I knew.

We’d just done something we could not undo.

We had taken the oldest family in mafia history.

Poked them.

And forced them to rise again.

May the De Langes rest in peace.

Because we’d just ended the war.