Page 76 of Cara & Gian: The Guzzi Duet

Frederic looked over at his son. “And why is that?”

“Assumptions make for dead men.”

His father tapped the side of his head. “See, Corrado is in there, Gian. He simply doesn’t manifest to you the same way he does to me.”

“And how is that?”

“I often hear him voicing my failures, or his lack of approval. I never gave him what he wanted—except for you—after all.”

“But how do I hear him?” Gian asked.

“You hear yourself, son, because you’re too much like your grandfather to find the distinction at the moment.”

“We weren’t entirely the same.”

“It’s enough,” his father said, vaguely. “I know you’re having problems with Edmond and his older men. I figured you would, Corrado probably did, too. I think he hoped to make it longer than Edmond, but knew that wasn’t going to happen what with the cancer diagnosis. Nonetheless, here you are. I also hear you’ve found yourself a … friend.”

Gian’s expression blanked, and he was determined to keep his emotions that way on this topic with his father. “I don’t need to hear your opinions on that side of things.”

“Yes, well—”

“I also don’t want to hear it, Dad.”

“But what exactly are you going to do with the Rossi girl, Gian?” His father scoffed. “It’s not like you can have any kind of acceptable future with her.”

“Who says?”

“Cosa Nostra, and you know why.”

Gian clenched his jaw. “For a man who didn’t want to be a part of la famiglia, you’re well-versed on things you have no business knowing.”

“Thank your grandfather for that.”

“You can’t thank a dead man, Dad.”

“Funny, we’re always thanking God for something or other. Didn’t he die once, too?”

“Move on,” Gian demanded with a disinterested flick of his hand.

“Fine. The problems, you said. I already know.”

“Good. Stay low, off the streets, you know, the normal when there’s issues popping up. Pass the message along to Ma. I’ll tell Dom. I want everyone to be safe over the next little while. That’s all.”

“That implies you plan to make some moves of your own that might agitate an already volatile situation, Gian.”

“I’m not implying it,” Gian replied quietly.

He looked across the graveyard to see more cars had begun parking along the road. Most, he recognized. Men—the younger side of the family—that he knew would come when he demanded their presence. Even Constantino’s car was clearly visible, though Gian expected his friend to still be a little sour over their scuffle a few evenings ago.

“I’m not implying it,” Gian repeated, “because I’m outright saying it now.”

“Be careful,” his father warned. “Things that often seem clear and straightforward in this business rarely ever are, Gian.”

“What matters the most is that someone started a war, and I plan on finishing it.”