“HELLO?”
“Ricky.”
“Shit, Solomon, let me explain. I’ve been upset about my brother, and when we were at that hotel, he was all I could think about. I’m sorry, man. I know I screwed up, and I shouldn’t have shot that guy without a silencer. I didn’t mean to bring heat out there like that. But Mason got my brother killed and we haven’t done anything about it yet. I’m sorry, man. Seriously, I was tripping. I messed up.”
“You did mess up, Ricky, but I understand. Nix is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother, and if I had to watch him die, nobody could keep me from getting the guy who got him killed. You’ve been patient, and waited your turn in this whole fiasco. However, the wait is over.”
“The wait is over? What do you mean, Solomon? You’re not gonna kill me, are you? I said I was sorry. I’ll even call and apologize to Nix if he’s still pissed.”
“This isn’t about Nix, and stop apologizing. You should know me well enough by now to know that’s not appealing to me. If you want to make up for what you did, I need you to do what you’ve been waiting to do. It’s time to send Mason on a permanent trip. Nobody else but him, though. You got it?”
“Yes, I got it. I’m all over it.”
“Good.”
“Thank you, Solomon.”
“Right. Once this is done, Ricky, so are we. Don’t ever let me see you again.”
“Damn, Solomon I’m so . . . Hello? Solomon?”
I hang up the phone and find Reina standing next to me, smiling with a beautiful glow in her eyes.
“Now that that’s done, you ready?” she says as she leans over and kisses me on the lips. Her tongue caresses my top lip and I feel the sudden urge to skip the meeting altogether.
“You keep doing that, and we’re not going anywhere,” I reply as I pull her close and kiss her neck, pulling a giggle from her lips.
“Uh-uh, Solomon, business first,” she replies as she playfully pushes me away. “Let’s go take care of this little thing first. You can do whatever you want to me once we get back. Come on.”
“You already know I’m gonna hold you to that.”
“You better! Now let’s get fancy!”
It takes Reina and me a little over an hour to get ready, and another fifteen minutes to drive to The VP. When we arrive, the valet takes my new, candy apple red Rolls Royce Wraith and parks it for us. We make our way inside and notice that the entire place is completely empty. Not a single customer is eating or even waiting to be served, because Nix made sure the place was closed for this special occasion. No waitresses, no cooks, just the valet outside and us inside.
Reina is stunning in her ankle-length red dress. Her blonde hair is wavy and flowing down her back with perfect grace as she walks next to me wearing both the bracelet and necklace I gave her when we were teenagers. I, on the other hand, am wearing a dark purple suit with black pinstripes. We decided to go all out for the occasion.
Reina and I walk through the main floor and make our way to the back, where the sliding doors to the VIP section are closed. I slowly slide them open and find my friend, Nix, sitting at a large table by himself, wearing an all-black suit and sipping Cristal from a decorative crystal glass. He raises it to me as my date and I approach with smiles on our faces.
“A fine evening, isn’t it?” he jokes as we meet him. I let Reina sit down first and gently push her chair in before taking my seat.
“Mighty fine,” I reply, pouring Reina and myself a glass of Cristal.
“Good evening, Ms. Wilde,” Nix says to Reina, raising his glass once more, as if toasting to her presence.
“Good evening, Nix,” Reina replies, mirroring Nix.
“So, give me an update before we get this underway,” I say.
“Okay, it’s short and sweet,” Nix states, putting his drink down to get serious. “Detective Anthony Mason was killed in a drive-by shooting, about twenty-five minutes ago.”
“Damn, that was fast,” Reina says.
“Mason was sitting in his car, off duty, in front of a strip club, when he was killed. The shooter was on a motorcycle with out-of-state tags, and wearing a black helmet, naturally,” Nix continues. “Nobody saw his face, and he sped away from the scene before anyone could ID him. If I know Ricky the way I think I do, that bike is already getting chopped up, the gun has been tossed, and he’s completely covered his tracks. The whole thing hit the news about ten minutes ago, and the cops are doing their manhunt song and dance, but we know they won’t find Ricky. It’s done.”
“It’s done,” I repeat with a grin. “Well, almost.”
Right on cue, the doors to the VIP area are slid open once again. Reina and I turn around to find Angelo Scarfo walking into the room with a person I’ve never seen before. Angelo looks exactly like I expected him to. He has thin, messy gray hair, bushy eye brows, and saggy skin that droops down from his cheek bones. The guy next to him is much younger and looks like he could be Angelo’s nephew or something. Both of them sport plain black suits and dreary expressions on their faces.
Seeing him here now is almost surreal for me. My whole life, Angelo Scarfo was the man. You either worked with him or you feared him so much that you didn’t dare do business anywhere near one of his establishments. Nix knew about this guy when he was just seventeen years old, and even managed to talk me into respecting him back then. If I had known this is what he’d look like today, I probably wouldn’t have listened to Nix.
The three of us stand up and greet the two Italians as they slowly step into the room. Nix walks over to them and pats down both the young one and Angelo both, making sure not to make the same mistakes Dante made the night we almost killed him at La Famiglia, before Reina showed up. Once Nix is satisfied with his security check, the five of us sit down at the table together. Nix pours the two men a glass of Cristal each and waits for Angelo to open the conversation.
“I told him,” Angelo starts off. His voice is low and raspy, and it looks as though the pancreatic cancer inside of him has even made speaking a laborious task. “I told Dante not to get into with you, but he wouldn’t listen.”
I can’t help but feel a bit of pride listening to Angelo Scarfo admit that he tried to avoid having issues with me. When I was a kid, it was the other way around.
“If this was two or three decades ago,” Angelo continues, ignoring his drink. “All of you would already be dead. We had the numbers and strength back then. Now, that seems more and more like a thing of the past, and I’m not the same man I was back then. I have family to look after now. My days of running and gunning are over, and Dante’s pride just got in the way of him being able to carry the torch into a brighter future.”
“Just so you’re aware, Mr. Scarfo, I never wanted war with your family,” I chime in. “I just wanted my piece of the pie. Dante forced my hand. Hopefully, we can avoid anything like that in the future.
“You won’t have to worry about anything like that from us,” Angelo says. “I just want a few moments of peace before this cancer takes me away. I have my son here to watch out for. I have to make sure he doesn’t end up like Dante. So, that’s what I came here to tell you. I don’t want your drinks, or anything else. We’re not friends, but we’re not enemies either. This thing between us is over. Capiche? You both played your games, and you won, Solomon. Now it’s done.”
“I’ll hold up my end as long as you hold up yours, Angelo,” I reply with a nod. “You have my word on that.”
Angelo looks at me, and I can still see that there is fire inside of him. He hates me for what I did to Dante, and if the mob was in its heyday, it would be all out war between us. The fire in him is dying out now, and he’s ready to retire from the life of crime. I can’t blame him. Angelo is seventy-one years old and dying of cancer. When that is your life, everything else seems very petty. I can appreciate and respect that perspective, so I’ll honor his call to a truce as long as he does.
Without saying another word, Angelo Scarfo stands up with the help of his son. I stand up at the same time, and the two of us embrace in a very brief hug to show that we’ve squashed our beef. When the hug is done, the dying boss of the Scarfo family and his son turn around and walk out of the restaurant, leaving the three of us alone.
Once we know they’re out, we all sit down and I lift my glass of Cristal.
“Now it’s done,” I say.
Reina and Nix lift their glasses with me, and we toast to our victory over the Scarfo family, and to a bright, shiny future as the rulers of the city of Philadelphia.