Page 58 of Say You're My Wife

My friend Chef Tanaka serves the chosen senator a little red cup. The liquid appears to be Japanese sake. It’s not, and everyone knows it.

The senator sweats as he looks down at it. It’s up to him if he will drink the poison. If he drinks it, his family will receive a generous severance package. If not, they’ll never find his body, and the Order will vote against saving the memory of his honorable public servant career, which means the family might even get left out of government benefits.

During the meeting, I found out the senator was the link between Franko and the Chicago crime family we’re unassociated with. All business outside the Order needs vetting, and neither Franko nor the senator vetted the Chicago folks. First time I ever heard about them.

Greed turns on a man if a man isn’t careful. The senator wasn’t careful.

While he’s staring at the cup, sweating, trying to figure out if walking away is a better option, I rise and go to the window. The rustic hardwood floors of my mountain retreat right outside the city creak under the soles of my shoes.

With the cool wind swaying the evergreens that serve as a fence around the home and the dusk turning into night, the scene appears tranquil, interrupted only by the choking sounds of the senator, who drank the sake.

Round one of the eliminations is complete.

I open the window and inhale the fresh air.

The wind blows inside, replacing the stale air of cigars and desperation as the other two senators wonder about their fate.

Dom approaches and slides his hands into his pockets. “I heard you had words with my dad the other night.”

“I did.”

“You know who the girl was?” he asks.

“Which girl?”

“The one dining with my father.”

I shake my head. “No clue.”

“My little brother’s girlfriend.”

I sense a story, so I turn toward him, and he faces me.

“You know what he did with her?” Dom asks.

I shake my head.

“You sure?”

I smile. “Careful.”

Dom puts a toothpick in the corner of his mouth. “We can’t find her.”

“Do you need help finding her?”

“I need to know if you gave me your gun for a reason that has something to do with my dad looking at your wife.”

“You are perceptive.”

“Did you?”

“I only want his eyes,” I tell him. “And not only for looking at my wife.” Although primarily for that.

“But you wouldn’t object to attending his funeral.”

I scrub my jaw. “He’s good for Order business.”

“I’m better.”

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