Flavio lifted his head and said, “Is this...a fucking joke?”

Rocco looked to Daniella. This was the unknown in their plan. Knew what Flavio’s reaction would be but not how he might act. They were sitting side by side on the opposite side of the table from Flavio who sat alone with a soldier standing on either side of him. The lawyers sat nervously to Daniella’s left and Mickey and Jimmy stood behind them. A construction lantern had been placed on the table between them all so he could read the contract. They’d watched as he read, shaking his head, the corners of his mouth turning down as he grew more and more displeased with what he learned. The lawyers’ legs had bounced with nerves.

Daniella said, “Maybe you should have legal counsel here...”

He slammed both his palms down on the table with a wallop and shouted, “I don’t need a fucking lawyer! I can fucking read!”

“There shouldn’t be a thing in the contract that you disagree with.”

He stood up briskly, his eyes glowered at Daniella, and Rocco would do anything to have a Glock in his waistband right now. His palms sweated. Flavio said, “I wanted it all.”

“I’m giving it all to you.”

“The mansion...”

“The mansion is not mine to give. It doesn’t belong to me,” she said with a shrug.

He chuckled with disdain and hatred, looking at her like he wanted her dead again. He punched his knuckles into the table, his gaze fixed on Daniella, “Get her here. Get your mother here.”

“She has nothing to do with this, Flavio.”

“She has everything to do with this. She stole my father from my mother.”

“You can’t steal something that isn’t owned. They weren’t married—”

“This is fucking bullshit,” he said. He turned his back to them, his shoulders tense and hunched, his head shaking as he considered his next move. There was a crest carved in the back of his wooden throne, in its center was a Medusa, gazing at them, snakes twisting around her in bas relief.

Daniella said, “I gave you everything my father left me. The legal and the illegal. The money, the businesses...I can’t give you what’s not mine.”

“I want the home I never had.”

“You had a home. I fucking visited it. You treated it like shit. You treated your mother like shit. Stop fucking acting like you’re owed something. I’m not giving you these things cause I want to, you’re the heir. You’re the heir like I am. I don’t want it. I have better things to do. This city, these families, this is where you belong. You’re a man like our father. Stop acting like a petulant child, and—”

“Child?” he roared.

“Child. You can be good for the vices of the city but you better grow up. Be a man like Papa was. It’s gotta be in you. He’s in your blood.”

“Contract says you get it all back if I die,” he said seriously, standing upright and fixing her with a cold gaze.

“Don’t die,” she said.

“And if you die?” he scoffed.

“What the contract says. The assets are in trust and they will revert to my mother and to Chicago charities.”

“Then how can you say it’s mine? How can you say you’re giving it to me?”

“It’s yours to do work with. Make it into something bigger.”

He breathed in and out. His eyes were wild like a cornered animal, his lips were curled in a sneer. He breathed and breathed, showing them his rising annoyance and his resolve to do something about it. He glowered and stormed, staring her down.

“Take it or leave it,” she said.

“Leave it,” he said. He loomed over her and the lawyers bristled and held the briefcases to their chests, though if bullets started flying those wouldn’t protect them. Flavio raised a hand to her and Rocco fought everything in him that told him to jump up and crush that hand to dust and spin his weasel head around on his shoulders til it looked to see where he’d come from. His fists shook with rage and his vision dimmed.

Flavio formed the hand into a mock pistol and he put the barrel to Daniella’s forehead. “I liked my first plan. The one where I kill you and take this city by force.”

“That’s the idea of a mad man,” she said boldly and Rocco’s heart beat with intense love for his tiger. “I’m laying it all at your feet. All you have to do is take it and show the families what you can do.”

He pulled his thumb back like it was the hammer on a gun and he was going to execute her. Rocco had hand signals of his own. He raised his left fist and Flavio heeded it, his eyes coming up to see what he was doing. Rocco opened his thumb and pinky, formed his hand into the universal Hang Loose sign and shook it.

“What the fuck is that?” Flavio hissed. “Hang loose? You fuckin...”

Flavio suddenly noted everyone’s gaze, saw them all looking at him. Sensed everyone’s sudden nervousness. His men began to shift from foot to foot and look around warily.

Flavio smiled, lips curled like a capricious Doberman.

“There’s a dot on me, isn’t there?” he said.

His gaze slowly cast down and he saw a glowing sniper dot fixed over his shirt on the exact spot his heart would be beating.

He broke out laughing, laughed so hard in that high bark that his eyes squinted. He began to clap his hands in admiration, like he was looking to rouse applause from a crowd. “Very good, very good,” he sang. “You are very good,” he reiterated, turned now to Rocco and wagging a finger at him in admonishment. “But you’re a bad boy,” he said, fixing his mean eyes on Rocco. “Your friend, is he a good shot?”

Rocco’s loose fist snapped into a V sign.

Just like that, the two eyes on the Medusa head carved in the throne exploded and the chair jumped and rocked. The double crack gunshots came after the splinters exploded from the chair and they echoed across the night outside the warehouse.

Flavio coughed in shock and awe, eyeing what had been done to his beloved chair. The two shots had arrived simultaneously, making perfect eyeholes in Medusa’s face. Rocco wondered where that fuzzy Irishman had hidden himself.

Flavio had to be scared, but he feigned confidence, turning now to him and Daniella and resuming a slow clap. “He is amazing. Amazing.”

Daniella was staring at the side of Rocco’s head, and he was reluctant to face her. He had to, he could feel the heat from her glare. When he turned she said, “You said you wouldn’t kill anymore.”

“I’m not the one with my finger on the trigger. Flavio’s life is in his own hands now. In a way it’s Flavio who has his finger on the trigger.”

“You’re such an asshole,” she hissed.

He winked, said, “I’m such an asshole why you smiling?”

Flavio lay his palms on the table, stood staring down on them again, said, “What happens when my men find your sniper? What will you do then?”

Daniella said, “If your men are good enough they could actually find him, I’ll pay for their fuckin’ funeral when they do.”

Rocco said, “And believe me, none of you know the man behind that scope. He knows you. He knows all of you.”

Daniella leaned onto the table now and put her hands together, unafraid of Flavio’s menace. “I could have had Rocco kill you a hundred times over. I could kill you now. Why are you alive?”

Rocco laughed and said, “All that time you wanted her dead and she’s the only thing keeping you breathing right now.”

Daniella said, “You’re not dead, Flavio, because I want you to succeed. Like it or not we’re related. We share blood. I love my Papa dearly and if he’s a part of you I want no harm to come to you. I’m rooting for you, buddy.” She leaned back casually and added, “Now sign the fucking papers.”

* * *

Her half-brother had nothing left to say. He had it all. Everything he wanted…and she was the one to give it to him. But he wanted it on his terms. He was like their father. But so was she. They both wanted things on their terms. But she knew Papa. Didn’t just share his blood. He’d raised her. She would get her way.

Flavio buzzed; he twitched. She nettled him. She liked that, enjoyed it. He threw himself back down in the throne and mugged at the paperwork. Inexorably, his hands moved. One taking up a pen, the other bringing the papers closer. He signed. He signed every sheet that had been tabbed with a colored sticky arrow. Daniella signed as well. The lawyers signed too, and filed the papers away as they finished. It was wordless and grim but it was done. The lawyers relief was palpable. They closed their cases and looked to her for release.

“We done here?” she said to Flavio.

“I guess we are,” he said coldly and leaned his elbows on the table still trying to drill holes in her with his eyes. “What’s next?”

She leaned back in her chair and put her hand out and Rocco took it. She said, “We’re getting out of the city and I don’t think you and I’ll see each other again.”

“Lovebirds,” he scoffed. “Stay safe wherever you go.”

“Remember the contract,” she said.

“Natural causes, Daniella. I remember that. Says if you meet foul play. Stay safe.” His serious face broke into a twisted mean gleeful thing and she shook her head in disdain but he chilled her.

There was a murmur behind them, his soldiers growing a rising concern. The sound of vehicles approaching filled the cold warehouse. Concern turned to agitation and his men shouted at one another and they drew their weapons and prepared themselves. Daniella checked her watch.

They were on time.

She didn’t need to turn to know what he was seeing. She could picture it. There would be over two dozen black Cadillac SUVs and sedans rolling up with purpose.

Flavio’s rage was ready to boil over. He growled to her, “What the fuck is this, Daniella?”

She grinned, said, “Your first day of work.”

She stood, smiling at Rocco, he took her hand and stood as well; they turned to watch. All of Flavio’s cars and men were boxed in and lit up by headlights. There were twenty to thirty cars pulled up outside of the warehouse and all their doors opened and now intimidating men were stepping out and shrugging against the cold, looking around and eyeballing Flavio’s men, who lowered their guns but had no idea what to do now. Seventy or more mob men milled around the warehouse, coming in to stand and look up at them, staring down the soldiers.

Moving purposely through the crowd she saw a familiar face. His mean and pinched scowl was fearless walking into this dangerous situation. He ran a big gnarled hand over his white shock of hair to make sure every bit of it was in place. It was. He weaved through the soldiers and they parted. He caught sight of her and his scowl turned to happiness and he held both his hands out, his gold cuff links winking at her.

“Daniella,” he called gleefully.

“Uncle Benny,” she said, smiling so wide her eyes narrowed to slits. “Glad you could make it.”

There were other men now filling in the space behind him. Not all the syndicate heads were here but they’d sent delegates. Tony T was there, Saturn Paradiso, and even Papa Joe, who towered over all the others even though he was hunched with ill-health.

Benny Pelegrin and two of his men mounted the concrete steps and came to her. He took both her hands and regarded her. He was tanned and shining, looking cultured and groomed in his camel-colored cashmere coat, but somehow his menace bubbled through that veneer, seen in the cold and calculating look in his eyes and the size and strength of his work-hardened hands. They were manicured and shone with a pinky ring but they exuded power. He, like her own father, had really come up from the bottom. Worked construction and menial jobs as kids until he and his good buddy, her papa, ruled tracts of this city with their iron fists.

He kissed both her cheeks, said, “So good to see you, baby, you had me so worried. We turned this city upside down looking for you.”

“I know,” she said. “I was worried it was you tried to kill me.”

“You insult me,” he said, wounded, putting his hand over his heart. “I woulda just sat you down and told you it was time to go. Take a hike. I couldn’t harm my little D. Remember when I used to hold you on my hip?”

“I do,” she said.

“What are you doing here?” Flavio asked, crossing his arms.

“This the kid?” Benny said to her, nodding his head sideways to Flavio.

“Yeah,” she said.

Benny crossed around the table to stand eye to eye with him. Less than eye to eye, Benny was shorter, but Flavio could feel his energy and he looked like he might flinch. He didn’t back down though. They looked into each other’s eyes a long moment. Finally, Benny said, “So you’re Papa Nero’s kid?”

“I am,” he said.

“I came up with your pop. I see him in your eyes. You the new boss?”

“I am,” Flavio said.

The corners of Benny’s mouth turned down sharply and he nodded with his eyebrows held high. “Yeah, all right, kid. You got the blood, you got the menace. It’s in your right, in your blood. You prove it to us. You got six months.”

“Six months?” Flavio said with anger.

“That’s more than he gave me,” Daniella laughed.

Benny looked over at her, then back to Flavio, said, “She’s too tutti-frutti.”

“Tutti-frutti?” he said.

“Tutti-frutti, airy-fairy... I don’t know, whatever the fuck...artsy-fartsy. Sorry, baby,” he smiled at her. “You’re too good for us. Too nice.”

“I’m not nice,” Flavio said with pride.

Benny turned his attention back to him. “Yeah, I heard what you did. You wanna rule us? You were gonna send us a message? Tell us you’re bad? Tell us that? Who gives a fuck, kid? What I see is a guy who paid a hitman too much money to do something two micks woulda done for a grand.” His eyes narrowed and he pinched his fingers to a point and wagged them in Flavio’s face, said, “You hired the hitman who was the sgarrista for her father? ...It never once occurred to you they might at one time have been fucking? ...Excuse me, Daniella, no offense, darling.”

“None taken. It’s true. We were fucking.”

“See? Now listen. You got Nero’s blood. You got the rights. Maybe you can do this. You got a long way, kid. We give you six months. We follow you six months then we see.”

There was a meanness in Flavio’s face, under it a resolve. Then, something Daniella noticed, a spark in his eye. A familiar familial spark that reminded her of her Papa. She knew he would always be trouble, it flowed through him like acid. But it flowed in a medium of Nero blood. Flavio would capitulate to Benny, maybe some long lost boy inside him would always be looking for a father, but there was a predatory look in his eye. A lone wolf bested by its alpha, dangerous still but content to roam the outskirts of its pack and lick its wounds, bide its time and wait for an opportunity. Flavio wanted it all and he would never stop, he would be like a dead-eyed shark, only swimming forward til it was dead, and stopping would kill it. But with some honing, some masculine care in the hands of the dangerous men of the Nero syndicate, maybe he’d become sharper. Right now he was a dumb thundering bludgeoning club, but that spark showed her father’s intelligence.

Benny continued, “Yeah, Daniella filled us in on you. What you did, what you got back at home in Sicilia. You got some big balls.” Then Benny took one of those strong stubby-fingered hands and abruptly grabbed a handful of what Flavio had between his legs. The knuckles of Benny’s hands went white. Flavio gasped, went onto his toes and gripped Benny’s shoulder. His face scrunched to harrowing meanness but he didn’t squawk. His breath scored from him.

Benny said, “Yeah you got some big ones but you listen to me. You see those two?” He nodded his chin to Rocco. “...What’s his name?”

“R-Rocco...”

“Right, now what’s her name?”

“Ow, Dan-Daniella.”

“Right. Now, one of them dies and it ain’t natural causes, shit, maybe if it is natural causes, I will make you eat these balls of yours,” he said, getting his eyes level with Flavio. He seemed to squeeze. “Capice? Stew em in a nice red sauce, let em cook all day. Then you will literally eat them.”

“Oh-okay...”

“Then I’ll shoot you in the face.” He turned then to Daniella, said, “Anything else?”

She smiled, said, “Nope. I wish him the best.” Then addressing Flavio, she said, “You want it you got it. You want to rule these seven families and lead them and have them follow, make them happy make them content, make sure they never want to kill you? It’s all you, boo.” She blew him a kiss, hooped her arm under Rocco’s. Flavio winced, Benny releasing his genitals, and he stood straight, adjusted his expensive jacket and eyed her coldly.

She turned her back to him, walked away arm in arm with her Rocco.

You can have it, Flavio. If you’ve got my father’s blood you can do it maybe. I got a man who I love. He’s the baddest of the bad. He’s handsome. He’s got a huge cock and abs and I love the shit out of him. He loves the shit out of me. He’s got sixty million in diamonds he hasn’t told me about but when he’s ready I’ll listen.

Killian had a big mouth, bigger when he plays cards and drinks whisky.