Chapter 7
Leonard Carbone walked into my patio like he still owned it.
Silver cane.
White hair.
Dark summer suit.
No hurry.
Four men followed him.
He stopped when he saw me.
That was satisfying.
Not fear.
Not yet.
Surprise.
“Salvatore.”
“Uncle.”
He looked toward Anthony.
Then Nolan.
Then Hattie.
No one met his eyes.
Good.
His plan had already started rotting.
Then he saw Adelaide.
My mother was standing beside me.
Fed.
Free.
No chain.
That bothered him more than seeing me.
“You look well.”
Adelaide stared at him.
“You don't.”
I almost smiled.
Leonard glanced at the destroyed beverage station.
The baskets.
Broken racks.
He understood.
“What happened?”
I answered.
“Family dinner.”
His mouth twitched.
“Your father had a better sense of humor.”
“My father also told me you were dead.”
“He wanted me gone.”
“You tried to take his chair.”
Leonard tapped the cane once against the stone.
“He was destroying the family.”
Anthony looked at me.
Same words.
Same disease.
Men who betray bosses always say they're rescuing something.
Leonard looked around the patio.
Several old capos had returned.
Men he knew.
Men who remembered him.
He opened his arms.
“Look at what Salvatore has made you.”
Nobody answered.
“He negotiates with Mercer.”
Silence.
“He closes profitable routes.”
Still nothing.
“He lets old enemies breathe.”
A few men shifted.
Leonard noticed.
So did I.
This was why he came.
Not for a fight.
For doubt.
He only needed enough.
Then Adelaide stepped forward.
My mother was still weak.
She didn't look weak.
“This banquet is mine.”
Leonard smiled.
“I remember.”
“You ate at my table when you had nowhere else to go.”
His smile disappeared.
“I remember that too.”
“I fed your men after your brother cast you out.”
A few capos looked at Leonard.
He didn't like that.
Adelaide continued.
“And now you returned by starving me?”
“That was not my order.”
Hattie made a sound.
Half laugh.
Half disbelief.
Everyone turned.
She pointed at Leonard.
“He knew.”
Leonard's eyes hardened.
Hattie continued.
“He asked Anthony whether five days would be enough.”
Anthony stood.
“Hattie.”
Too late.
Leonard looked at her like she had stopped being human.
That expression frightened her.
It should have.
I stepped between them.
“No.”
Leonard looked at me.
“You don't get to threaten people in my house.”
He smiled.
“Your house?”
There it was.
The real argument.
Not peace.
Not Mercer.
Not my father.
Leonard had lived nine years believing one thing.
That my chair was only being kept warm.
I looked around the patio.
Then back at him.
“Ask them.”
His smile faded.
“What?”
“Ask every man here whose house this is.”
No one spoke.
They didn't need to.
Leonard finally looked uncertain.
Then Ella appeared in the doorway.
My daughter.
I immediately turned.
“Ella.”
She should have been upstairs.
She pointed at Leonard.
“Grandma.”
Adelaide looked at her.
Ella frowned.
“That's the man who said Dad won't come home tomorrow.”
Every face on the patio turned toward Leonard.
He stopped smiling.
May you like
And just like that, the argument about leadership ended.
Now we were talking about murder.
