Elect(25)

“Sir. Thank you, sir.”

“For?”

“Being gracious and giving me a choice.”

“Better.” I took off the knuckles and wiped them on my jeans. “Now, what would you like to tell me?”

He smirked and leaned back in his chair. “You’re all going to die—and you don’t even know the worst part.”

“Oh, it gets worse?” I laughed bitterly. “Tell me. Now.”

“A shitstorm’s coming your way and you have no idea. Neither does the Nicolosi family. Everyone thinks this is about some old beef, some jealousy between the Alfero and Abandonato families? Hell no. It’s not about jealousy. It’s about blood. It’s about the wrong blood leading; it’s about the secret your family’s been keeping—is still keeping. And the best part?” He leaned forward, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I’ll take it all the way to the bottom of Lake Michigan. Hell, I may not get a last breath, but I’ll die with a smile on my face knowing that you never even knew who your real father was.”

I don’t remember how many times I hit him before he passed out. Blood dripped from both my hands and I still wanted more. What the hell kind of mind game was Phoenix playing?

I quickly dialed Uncle Tony’s number and told him to meet me. We needed to move faster than I thought—I needed all the information, the leads that we’d collected over the years, the evidence. I wanted and needed it all.

Something told me we were running out of time faster than I could possibly imagine, and I knew Phoenix held the key. The only question? Who was holding the information over his head?





Chapter Sixteen


Nixon


“Are you sure this is all you have?” I asked for the third time. Tony had given me a USB drive with all the information that we’d collected over the years, including pictures of the De Lange family’s comings and goings, and active accounts.

Shit, they were worse off than I thought.

And that was the problem.

As far as I could tell they weren’t receiving any payments from any outside source. Nobody seemed to be bribing them. No wire transfers; nothing.

Tony snorted. “Nixon, you’re not only my boss but my nephew. Why would I of all people keep vital information from you?” He lit his cigar and walked over to the large bay window in my kitchen.

Hell. He was lying to me; the son of a bitch was lying. I could always tell when someone wasn’t being honest. Not that I liked to brag, but whenever people lie they tend to give more information than necessary. They do this in order to convince you that because they have details, they’re innocent.

If Tony was telling the truth, he would have shrugged and said “yup.”

He didn’t even deny it. No, instead he turned the tables and said, “Why would I of all people keep information from you?”

Guilt dripped off every word.

Why indeed?

I pretended to scroll through the bank accounts on the computer. It was all information I’d seen before. Things that didn’t really matter and wouldn’t help our case one bit.

What motive would Tony have to hide something from me? What would he have to gain? He was loaded. All of our business dealings were managed by different companies. I oversaw all operations.

The man was worth close to a billion dollars. Granted, that was a drop in the bucket compared to my own fortune, but still.

It couldn’t be money. He had money.

“Well.” Tony puffed on his cigar and faced me. “I think I’m going to head home. You’ll tell me if anything comes up?”

Here went nothing.

“Nah.” I leaned back in my chair. “I don’t think it’s necessary you know all the gory details. Just do what I pay you to do.”

Tony’s nostrils flared; his eyes remained cool and distant. “And what’s that?”

I smiled. “Your damn job. Manage the transactions coming in and out of the banks, make sure every member of the family gets paid by the end of the month. You know, that sort of thing.” I looked back at my computer, dismissing his presence.

“Now, listen here, Nixon, you may be—”

“We’re done now.” My eyes flickered to his. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a mess to clean up.”

He seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say. Instead he nodded. “Yes sir.” And stormed out of the room.

“Angelo,” I called behind me.

“Yes sir.”

“Tail him. I want to know what he eats for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I want to know what toothpaste he uses at night, what whiskey he prefers, all of it. I want you to know him so damn well that if I placed his skin on your body, people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. Anything suspicious, you call me. And Angelo?”