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Was it sometimes tainted by the blood of some strunzo who got in too deep?
Possibly.
But we weren’t a family to be feared by those who were good.
I remember the days when my grandfather was in power fondly.
But that greed in Paulie’s eyes seeped into the family as soon as my grandfather passed. Tony had new ideas, ideas to earn more. Forcing hands and taking the wrong deals. Communicating with the cartel and arms dealers, offering safe passage and transport. Promising protection to small businesses in the community—for a price.
We somehow moved away from the family, away from the community, away from bettering the lives of the people around us, despite it being in shifty ways, to greed.
I wanted to change that. For a while, I thought I could convince Tony to my side and we could go back to the original glory of the family. And then the greed caught him too, so much so, an anonymous tip to the FBI got him locked up on RICO charges for life.
Greed will always get you in the end.
With Tony out of the picture, it comes down to me to take over the family. I need to prove to my father my path is the right one so when it’s time, I can take the reins and run it how it should have always been run.
This club is my point of proof—a club with beautiful women who we take care of and don’t exploit. A high-class place for men to come to do business. Secret back rooms for games, liquor, and a cash system to easily clean money and keep us above board. Our connections could help us expand, make acquiring permits and liquor licenses easier, the same way we’ve done with Carluccio’s Disposal for decades. The framework is already set. It’s just a matter of convincing the family to try it—to bet on a long-term investment, a slight hit up front in exchange for a sure-fire thing. For a safer option for all of us.
And the best part is it’s expandable. Jerzy Girls is already an attraction of sorts for local high-powered businessmen. Large deals have been made while watching a beautiful woman shake her ass or, in the back room, being served scotches by gorgeous servers over a game of poker.
Golf might seem like the gold standard for business deals regarding high-powered men. Decisions that impact millions happen on the manicured greens of the course, by why not the felted green of a poker table?
We can change things.
We can change things and make ourselves unbearably rich by doing so while also making my grandfather proud of the legacy he left.
In those years after Tony was locked away and written off by the family to avoid further digging, I knew I needed to start planning. To be smart enough to earn my father’s trust, to earn that power transfer, but also set a Renaissance into motion.
I want to go back to the glory of the old days, when there wasn’t a constant fear of the FBI knocking down your door with RICO charges, when we weren’t constantly worrying about another family fighting us for power or territory.
The made men who rose with me, the men I brought on who answer to me, they see my vision. We’ve talked in quiet corners. They’ve raised their concerns and worries and told me they think we’re straying too far. Things are getting too dangerous; innocents are getting pulled into the mess. They have families. They have children and wives. People they don’t want to leave. They see a community afraid of us who used to rely on us, a community that struggles without the aid of our power.
But then Paulie turned twenty, and things got . . . confusing.
My father started making comments. Small at first, comments about Paulie following his father’s footsteps, asking how he would handle things. If he were to choose Paulie, what would he do? How did Paulie handle situations? Where did he see the future of the family?
Soon, Paulie brought on his own men into the family, his own capos, all of who were undeniably loyal to him, and it became clear: my father was pitting us against each other, looking for us to fight to prove who is worthy of the title of boss. He’s enjoying the battle, watching any hope of a relationship between us disintegrate slowly.
And that would be fine—with the greed bubbling in Paulie’s eyes, I could say fuck it, lose that relationship with my nephew, kiss my father’s ass and play the game until I get the nod of approval, the right to run the family the way I know is right. The way my mother would have wanted. The way my grandfather would have wanted.
Except Paulie is planning. He’s planting men in positions that will cause me trouble in the long run, planting seeds in the minds of capos to the point that I think when I do take over, there will be a mutiny. He’s making it so that even if I win in the end, I’ll lose.
That’s why this plan—one I’ve been working on for two years—is vital. And when Lilah fell into my lap, taking every sense of self I had with her, the vision became clearer.
But Paulie . . . He’s going to need to be dealt with.
This all being said, when Paulie says that Lilah could be a test, the blood in my veins turns to ice, chilling me to the bone.
“A test?” I repeat when he doesn’t say anything, eyes narrowing on the man who is my blood.
Paulie doesn’t respond, and the debate is evident in his eyes.
Does he want to reveal his plan, his ideas for a business that isn't even his? Or does he want to keep his hand close and let it play out in his own little way?
Then it’s my turn to debate: do I push him to explain or wait him out.
Normally, the answer would be obvious. Wait. I could wait out Paulie for a century, wait for his dumb ass to slip up and then handle it when the time comes.
