Long Live the King (An Italian Mafia Romance Duet #2)

by Ws Greer

  As I look upon Dan, I feel fury that’s been building up in me these past few days boiling to the surface again. After a year of happiness and living the good life, the other shoe has finally dropped. I’m finally experiencing the stereotypical bullshit that happens to mob bosses. All of this shit reminds me of captains plotting to kill their boss, like John Gotti having Paul Castellano shot to death while he’s on his way to dinner, or the Commission putting a contract on Carmine Galante to be carried out while he’s having lunch in broad daylight. I feel like their fate might be creeping up on me, but it doesn’t scare me. No, it only pisses me off more than I could ever explain to anybody. There’s no chance in hell I’m going to let these motherfuckers take me out like those old bosses got taken out. Not a chance. Not me.

  You better remember it forever. I’m Dominic Collazo.

  “What are you thinking?” I hear Alannah say from behind me as she places a soft hand on my hard shoulder.

  “I’m thinking I want to find out who the hell did this,” I reply, keeping my eyes on Dan. “I’m thinking there might be a chance Dan saw something. Maybe he saw who shot him. I’m thinking Raphy was a made guy, so his unsanctioned murder is an act of war. I’m thinking I don’t wanna wait for the Commission to give me their approval anymore. I have to get a hold on all of this, and I’m thinking I need Dan to pull through, because he may have some answers I need.”

  Alannah doesn’t respond. I look back at her and I can see the anxiety in her eyes. As if her pupils were crystal balls, I can tell she’s worried about the future—about the possibility of me ending up in a hospital bed just like this one. The way things have changed is exactly the kind of thing Alannah was worried about when she first came back to St. Louis. Her worst nightmare is coming true, and the last thing I want is for her to be scared. My woman should never have to worry—not about me, not about anything, and that’s just another reason I have to get control of this. She has to know that I’ll be her anchor when things get rough. She has to know I’ll always protect her.

  Reading the fear in her eyes, I turn around and wrap my arms around Alannah, pulling her body in close to me. She lowers her head and buries her face in my chest as she interlocks her fingers behind my back.

  “I know you’re worried, babe,” I whisper to her so Dan’s mother doesn’t hear. “But listen, I don’t want you to worry about me.”

  “You may as well not even say that to me,” she says as she lifts her head and whispers in my ear. “You know I’ll worry anyway. I can’t help it.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I reply. “But I got this. I’m gonna find out who the hell is behind all of this, and I’m gonna take care of it. Nobody threatens us. Ever. You know I’d never let anything happen to you.”

  “It’s not me I’m worried about, Dominic.”

  “Nothing is gonna happen to me. I don’t give a fuck if it’s Victor or Giovanni, or fucking Satan himself—anybody who comes for me is gonna die trying. Anybody who threatens you is gonna suffer first, and they’re gonna die too. I don’t fear anybody, but after all that’s happened, everybody better be afraid of me.”

  Alannah looks into my eyes and exhales. I know it doesn’t matter what I say, she’ll be worried to death, maybe even after this is all over, and I hate it. I hate that she feels anxious all the time, and I wish I could assure her that I’ll be okay, but in this life, you really never know.

  “Just find out who did it,” she says, this time a little louder, and Dan’s mother overhears.

  The old woman stands up and walks over to us, her oversized floral dress hanging off of her like a nightgown. She places a hand on Alannah’s shoulder as she looks me in the eye with a face as cold as ice.

  “Yes, Dominic,” she says. “Find out who did this to my son, and kill them.”

  I hear Alannah let out a small gasp in shock at the old woman’s words, but Dan’s mother is old school, and like any old school Italian mother, she wants vengeance for her son being shot. I owe it to her to bring that vengeance, and I will pay what I owe.

  “I promise you,” I reply to Mrs. Stanza, whose eyes have filled with tears. “I’ll find them, and when I do, it’s fucking over for them. You have my word on that.”

  Mrs. Stanza doesn’t answer verbally, but she says okay with a nod of her head before returning to her seat and continuing to be a spectator in her son’s fight for his life.

  As Mrs. Stanza makes herself comfortable for the long night of watching machines help keep Dan alive, I look through the window on the door and see Tommy standing in front of the counter at the ICU entrance. He’s wearing jeans and a long black jacket, which I know is concealing his signature two nine millimeters. He leans forward on the counter as he speaks to the nurse, who I’m sure is telling him only family is allowed in, so I decide to help him avoid the argument. I say goodnight to Dan’s mother with a kiss on both cheeks, and remind her to call me the second Dan wakes up, then Alannah and I head out to speak with Tommy.

  “How’s he doing?” he asks as we approach.

  “Not good,” I reply. “Trying to make sure he’s stable for a while before doing the first surgery. Let’s go talk.”

  “Okay,” Tommy replies, leaning around me to try to see into Dan’s room before following me out.

  The three of us walk to an elevator and make our way down into the underground garage of the hospital. Once I know we’re away from everyone, I pull us into a tight circle and speak softly.

  “Alright, look,” I begin, looking at Tommy. “I’m starting to think someone in our family made the hit on Raphy.”

  Tommy’s forehead wrinkles but only for a second, then he’s back to normal.

  “That’s crazy,” he replies, which almost instantly gets on my nerves.

  “Is it? Because from what I hear about the hit, it looks like someone knew to go straight for Victor’s money.”

  “But nobody in our family would be crazy enough to do that. Who the fuck is that stupid?”

  “Pick a person! It could be anybody, but I think it’s somebody close. Somebody who sits at our table. It’s the only thing that makes sense. In fact, it’s the only thing that makes sense in all of this craziness. First the truck goes missing, now this thing with Dan and Raphy getting robbed and shot on the way to Chicago. It all seems like some backdoor plan to cause a war. But, that’s what I think. I wanna know what you think, because out of all the people in the Family, you’re the only one who’s earned my trust over the years. You were a part of my crew before I was the boss, so I know you’ve got my back.”

  Tommy looks down at the ground as he thinks, then his eyes bounce to me, then Alannah, and finally back to me.

  “Umm, I don’t know, Dominic,” he says, uncharacteristically unsure of himself. “I mean, why would someone in our family want to cause a war between the families? Everything has been good up until now. I don’t think anybody has a reason to do anything like that. Not to mention the fact that it’s suicide, and everyone knows it. Nobody has balls big enough to cross you. Victor, on the other hand, is an old-head who would jump at the opportunity to prove how badass he is to a younger boss. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was the one setting all of this shit up.”

  I squint my eyes at Tommy. “That’s what Frankie said.”

  “Oh yeah?” Tommy replies. “Well, probably because that’s the only thing that makes sense. Victor Fronzo is an asshole, and he’s the only one who’s connected to all of this.”

  “Bullshit,” I snap back. “Jimmy’s connected to all of it too. It all started with him. Hell, I have half a mind to just go whack Jimmy myself and make sure it doesn’t get back to the Commission, because the more I think about this shit, the more his name pops into my head.”

  “Come on,” Tommy chimes in. “Jimmy might be an asshole, but I don’t think he’d sellout like that. Why would he want to start a war with Victor?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t fucking care. Victor and Jimmy are the only constants. I don’t trust anybod
y right now, besides the three of us standing right here. You and Alannah are the only ones that have my faith, and until this shit is done, it’s gonna stay that way.

  “So, I need you, Tommy. I need you around more than ever—to have my back, to have Alannah’s back, and to help me figure out who’s behind all of this, because it’s time for traitors to start dying. It’s us three against the world until we find the cocksucker who hit the truck, and when we do, we’re gonna make an example out of them. A huge fucking example. I want them dead in the street for everyone to see. The shit that’s happening now will never happen in this family again. I’m gonna make sure of that”

  “What about Victor?”

  “What about him?” I reply.

  “We still owe him money, don’t we?”

  “Yeah, we do, but fuck Victor. Until I know with absolute certainty that he didn’t send Giovanni down here to start all of this, I’m not paying him one fucking cent. If he doesn’t like it, he can come here to collect for himself, and I’ll gladly be his grim reaper. We’re gonna get our house in order, then I’ll worry about Victor. For now, I need you to watch our backs, Tommy. When I can’t be around Alannah, I need you with her to make sure no one tries any shit, because if anyone threatens Alannah, all the rules go out the window.”

  “Okay, Dominic, I can do that,” Tommy says. “Whatever you need me to do.”

  “Good. Finding out who did this is priority one, so we all have to be vigilant. Someone’s out there trying to start a war, and they killed Raphy, who was a made guy. We’re gonna find this motherfucker, and I don’t give a fuck who’s family he’s in, when I find him, he’s gonna die slow.”

  “Fucking right,” Tommy replies, nodding his head. “We just gotta find out who it is, and I’m gonna get right on that.”

  Alannah

  How things can change in seven days.

  A week ago, I just knew this life of ours was going to be filled with laughs and trips to places I’ve never heard of. I knew there’d be problems, sure, but I also knew Dominic could handle them with his loyal family behind him. I thought the Family would always be there for us, and there wasn’t anything in the world that was too big.

  I thought they all could be trusted—Frankie, Jimmy, Big Sal, John, and of course, Tommy. I believed they all had Dominic’s best interest at heart. I thought they loved him, that they wanted him to be the boss and they took pride in calling him Don Collazo. Dominic is the youngest boss in La Cosa Nostra history, and I thought they liked being a part of that history. I thought this family was our family.

  That was a week ago, but oh how things can change in seven days.

  “I’ll have the lobster scampi linguini,” Tommy says to the tall, blonde waitress, who doesn’t bother to write anything down because she plans to memorize our orders.

  “Cajun chicken linguini alfredo,” Dominic orders next, as he hands the menu to the blonde.

  “And for you, ma’am?” she says to me.

  “Seaside shrimp trio,” I tell her. The blonde throws me a smile and turns on her heel to hopefully not ruin our orders.

  The three of us sit in a booth in the corner of Maggiano’s Little Italy, an exquisite Italian restaurant with an owner that Dominic used to extort when he was still a capo, sipping wine as we wait for our food to arrive. We met at Mercy Hospital to see Dan two days ago, and ever since that meeting, there’s been something restless growing in my gut. I can’t identify it completely, but I know it’s there, and I know it’s real. Something’s wrong—someone is wrong, and I feel the danger hovering over me like a dark cloud ready to strike. I feel the hairs on my arm standing up. I know the lightning is coming.

  “So, how’s he doing? I haven’t been able to get in there to see him since the day he was shot,” Tommy says to Dominic who sips his wine casually.

  “Better, I guess,” Dominic answers. “He had surgery yesterday morning, and came out of it alright. That’s the last I heard.”

  Tommy stares at Dominic, and his face looks like he’s holding his breath. He’s looked that way when talking about Dan ever since Dan went to the hospital. Something in that face bothers me. Something in that face isn’t right. I can feel it in my bones.

  “That’s good. Maybe I’ll go by there soon. You know, to make sure he’s okay,” Tommy says as he adjusts his red tie, but Dominic frowns.

  “Ain’t nothing you can do for Dan,” he says. “I need you with us. We gotta be a tight circle until this thing is done. Now, did you get that information for me?”

  “Yeah, I did,” Tommy replies as he pulls out a small piece of paper and sets it on the table as he reads over the information scrawled on it. “So, the night Raphy and Dan got hit, Jimmy was working at the carwash. Him and his crew were counting money from a small score they had a couple of days ago. I even had one of his workers show me the video of all of them walking in together. He definitely wasn’t in Chicago shooting Raphy and Dan if he was at the carwash.”

  I can see it in Dominic’s face that he’s convinced Jimmy is connected to all of this. Just because he wasn’t physically in Chicago doesn’t mean he wasn’t behind the hit. It doesn’t mean he’s not working with Victor and Giovanni.

  “How about Frankie?” Dominic asks, moving on from Jimmy as if nothing had been said about him at all. He smooths out tiny wrinkles on his black jacket as Tommy reads more.

  “As for Frankie, he was at home with his wife that night. I asked around, and everybody who lives around there said they saw him come home in the early afternoon, and his car never left the house again.”

  “And Sal?” Dominic continues pushing.

  “Sal and John were both at River City that night, Dominic,” Tommy says, almost as if he’s sorry to say the words. “Both of them are all over the cameras playing Texas Hold ‘Em.”

  “Okay,” Dominic utters quietly, nodding his head even though his face says nothing has changed about how untrustworthy everyone seems.

  I feel so sorry for Dominic. He wants the answers to all of this so badly, and I know he feels like they’re within reach, but he just can’t grasp them. He’s standing on a ledge with his arms outstretched, reaching for the solution, and he’s so close to falling off.

  “It’s gotta be Victor and Giovanni,” Tommy says just as the blonde waitress is back with all of our food. He folds the paper into a tiny square before shoving it back into his pocket and giving the waitress a faux smile.

  Dominic and Tommy go quiet as the blonde waitress and a redheaded helper place our plates in front of each of us and make sure everything is how we ordered it. To my surprise, it actually is. I commend the waitress for her good memory before she thanks her helper and walks away. We all start to dig in as Tommy begins again.

  “I know it might sound far-fetched,” he says quietly, unfolding his napkin. “But after looking into all of our guys, it’s the only thing that makes any sense now. Victor must’ve had Giovanni come down here and cause all of this.”

  “I still don’t buy it, Tommy. Maybe I’d consider it if we had proof,” Dominic replies.

  “I can get proof,” Tommy immediately counters with too much confidence.

  I look up at Tommy as he leans forward, pleading with Dominic with his eyes. I can’t shake the feeling that I have, and it’s the first time I’ve ever had a bad feeling about Tommy. Maybe it’s my lack of trust just growing after Dominic told me the hit was an inside job, but the only person I trust is Dominic.

  There’s something in Tommy that keeps catching my attention, though. I can’t put my finger on it, and the last thing I’d ever do is interject how I feel into Dominic’s business. At least, not without significant evidence to support my claim. I’d have to be one hundred percent certain before talking to Dominic about this, and I’m not there yet. So, I’ll keep my mouth shut for now. However, I’m not completely dead at this meeting between Dominic and Tommy. I’m listening. I’m watching.

  “How can you get proof?” Dominic asks between chews. “An
d not some bullshit theory, but solid proof that I can take to the Commission.”

  Tommy thinks on it for a second as he lifts his glass to sip his wine. As he raises it, I swear I can see him wince in pain, but he stops short of making it too obvious. He moves his arm slowly to his mouth and sips the golden liquid before placing the glass back on the table with way too much caution.

  “I just need to get to Chicago and do some digging,” he finally says.

  “No fucking way,” Dominic snips. “Victor’s gotta be pissed because I haven’t been answering his calls about the money we still owe, so if you go down there and get caught snooping, you’re dead. That’s the last thing I need.”

  “There’s no other way,” Tommy replies with a shrug of his massive shoulders. “If I don’t get down there and look into this, it’s gonna be too late. For all we know, Victor has already put in a call to his pals in the Commission again. He sits on the Commission, and he could get his friends to sign off on anything. Hell, he might have a contract out on you already for not paying and settling the debt. Of course it’s your call, but the way I see it, the sooner we get evidence on Victor, the sooner we can hit them before they hit us again. I’m just sayin’.”

  All the words flying around are hard to grasp and make use of, and it’s frustrating. I let out a loud exhale, half to grab Dominic’s attention, half because I’m really starting to feel like crap. I don’t know what it is—maybe it’s the smells from all the foods, maybe it’s all the stress from worrying—but I have a sudden rush of nausea wash over me, and I feel an urge to go get some fresh air. I think I’ve just had enough of all of this.

  “Hey, you okay?” Dominic asks when he sees me close my eyes and rub my forehead.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Not feeling all that great,” I reply.

  “Maybe it’s the wine,” Tommy says. “It fucks with me like that sometimes, too.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I reply in a hushed tone.

  I lower my head and place my hand over my eyes to steady myself just as I hear Dominic’s cell phone ringing. He checks on me one more time before pulling the phone out of his pocket to answer it.