Page 99 of Disgrace

John knew exactly what his father meant. He was living that dream now. “Being a made man.”

Lucian nodded. “I worried how la famiglia might treat you, considering everything. I worried that something would happen to forever brand you in Cosa Nostra. Once a man ruins himself in this life, he is done.”

John cleared his throat. “I kind of did do that, though. The Andino episode years ago. Matteo a few months ago. No man in control of himself would—”

“Except none of those events have ever pushed you out of the family, or affected your ability to do exactly what you do best in this business. Men still want to work with you—you still make money. They still respect you, and hold a healthy amount of fear for you at the same time. You earned all of that and not in spite of your bipolar, but because of it, John.”

Lucian clapped his son on the shoulder, adding, “Nothing the Calabrese fools might release about you or your history is a shock to anyone who knows you, or has watched you grow up, John. Old news, that’s all. The men of our family may not speak about it at the dinner table, but they have seen enough and know enough, and yet, we are all still one.”

True.

Sometimes, John needed things pointed out to him. It was easier for him to see the bigger picture when he had been focused on only one piece of it for too long.

“I misjudged our la famiglia,” Lucian said. “And that was my fault. Don’t make my mistakes, John. We may be bad men, but we are also good men, too.”

“Yeah, I won’t.”

“Good,” Lucian said, patting him on the shoulder once more. His father turned to head for the counter where the electric kettle sat waiting. “Coffee?”

“Sure. You know, that was my biggest fear growing up.”

Lucian looked back at him. “What?”

“Being the shame or disgrace of this family. I figured, how far could I push, and how many people did I have to hurt before it was all over for me? I kept getting one more chance. No matter how far I alienated myself from everyone, I still had to be close enough to the edge of the family to see inside. I didn’t feel right, otherwise.”

“Of course you did. We just gave you time.”

“You completely disregarded what I first said.”

“No, I didn’t,” Lucian said, prepping a mug for instant coffee. “You’re not a disgrace to this family. You could never be, John. That’s it, that’s all.”

“I like how everything is black and white for you.”

Lucian smirked over his shoulder. “Far from it—my life has been lived in shades of gray, son. Much like yours. Now, have a coffee. We have a meeting to get to.”

“What meeting?”

“Andino called it. He’s decided on a course of action.”

“Finally.”

Lucian gave him a look.

John shrugged. “I can’t help how I feel. That’s part of this whole being bipolar thing, all right. I feel what I feel, and I feel it much more than any of you ever do. I can’t help it.”

And right then, he was feeling really fucking irritated with his cousin.

“I know, but you can be quieter about it.”

Fair enough.

• • •

John did not expect to see what he found waiting for him in his uncle’s office. Instead of Dante sitting behind the desk—where the boss always sat when a meeting was held—it was only Andino.

His cousin waved a hand at the chair across from the desk, saying, “Sit, John.”

John stayed standing. “Shouldn’t Dante be here? His house, office, desk, and family.”