Page 143 of Disgrace

“You stand when a boss sits unless he has directed you otherwise,” John murmured, “so move your asses.”

It took a beat.

And then another second.

Chairs scraped as the men slowly rose to their feet. A couple of them grumbled under their breath, but didn’t dare voice their complaints much louder than that. Once everyone was standing, John leaned back in the chair, and surveyed the men with his thumb and forefinger resting against his jaw.

“I thought you all might want to see what success in the criminal underworld really looks like,” John said, waving his other hand at the opulence of the dining room.

The chandelier was bigger than a small car.

The table?

Flaked with gold.

“You could all learn a thing or two by accepting your fate of a new boss, and a new path for this family, but I assume there are some of you who plan to make this hard for me. Nonetheless, I brought you all here so you could have your vote. As we all do—we put in nominations for positions, and vote on them. This is no different. So, we will vote on the boss.”

The men’s gazes darted fast to John, and then between one another.

“Vote,” one of the men echoed.

“That is what I said,” John replied calmly.

“Yet, you present yourself as the boss, so where is the vote really?”

John smiled coldly. “I am giving you the illusion of a choice, and then I’m going to make my point very clear.”

He lifted his fingers high, and snapped them twice. Siena stayed put on the chair with her hands folded in her lap, and quiet as could be. She knew what was coming, and it didn’t shock her like it did the rest of the men to watch a good twenty more men file into the dining room.

Marcello men.

Enforcers.

Capos.

Trusted people.

Each had a gun in hand, though they kept the weapons lowered, and pointed to the ground at their front. Each man came to stand behind every standing Calabrese man, though they didn’t speak, and in fact, didn’t even look the other men in the eyes.

“I really don’t mind wiping a family out and starting over,” John said, shrugging. “It actually seems like the easier thing to do, but this takes work, too. Building a family, and working the streets takes time. I figure it will be far more beneficial for all of us to simply … accept what’s going to happen, and move on to better success.”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” one of the men said.

John’s gaze drifted to the Marcello man standing behind the Capo who spoke up. His head subtly moved to the side, and the man lifted the gun, and put it to the back of the man’s head.

“You will, from this day forward, refer to me in only the best of ways, and with the utmost respect. You will stand when I enter a room as you should do for your boss, and you will behave as proper made men should in a family. Should I find out you even breathed a slur against me—call me crazy, inept, or anything—you will quickly find your way into a grave.”

John smile, and leaned forward as he pointed a finger at the men. “You are all replaceable. Never think different. I do not care how long you have been a made man, or what got you to this point. You will respect me, or I will be forced to teach you how to respect me. I would much rather leave it to you to figure out.”

Then, John looked over at Siena, and gave her a brief smile. “And my girl—Siena. You will see her quite frequently. With me, or at my home. She is an important presence in my life, and she is to be treated as such. She is to be treated with the same care and respect you would give to your mother, sister, or even your wife. As you want other made men to treat the women in your life, I expect the same. She is not your pet, or your servant. She does not answer to you, and what she does choose to do for you, you are to thank her each and every time you are graced with her presence.

“I intend for her to be my wife, and I expect you to treat her accordingly,” John said with a wave of his hand.

Siena’s throat tightened at those words. Of course, she wanted to marry John. She wanted to be with him forever—but he not used that word with her. He had not yet asked her, but still, happiness slipped through her veins like a drug.

“Do not make me regret choosing this way with you,” John said. “Do not make me think the easier route would have simply been cleaning house one by one. That option, by the way, is still very much alive.”

Instantly, every man but one sat when John stood from his chair. Siena could not hide her smile, but her concerned gaze drifted to the one man who had stayed standing.