Mafia Kings: Valentino: Chapter 30

We left the hotel in a caravan of Alfa Romeo SUVs, all black.

Don Vicari didn’t like to splurge on his jet, but at least his cars were only a few years old.

Vicari sat behind the driver. I sat behind the guy riding shotgun.

He was literally riding shotgun, by the way: he had a sawed-off double-barrel Remington between his legs, angled down towards the floor.

I prayed that Niccolo had been right about Sicilians being extremely paranoid. Otherwise, it sure looked like they were expecting to get ambushed by somebody.

As we got on the interstate, the BMW sedan carrying Niccolo went one way while the rest of the vehicles went the other.

Don Vicari stared silently at the driver’s seat. Neither the driver nor the guy riding shotgun said anything, either.

It freaked me out a little how nobody was talking…

But I didn’t really want to talk anyway, so I gazed out at the scenery.

Palermo seemed to go on forever. It was way bigger than Florence, the city closest to my home.

Well…

What used to be my home.

Suddenly, a ringtone broke the silence.

Shotgun Guy reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a cell phone. He answered it, listened, and then held out the phone. “It’s for you, boss.”

Vicari took it. “What,” he said emotionlessly.

His face darkened.

“Tell him you’re not hanging around to take him back,” he growled.

After the guy on the other end said something, Vicari looked even more pissed off. “Fine. Fuck him, then.”

He hung up the phone and passed it back to Shotgun.

“Your brother switched plans on me,” Vicari said without looking at me.

My heart beat faster from hope. “Dario?”

“No, the consigliere.”

“Oh.” Nic. “What did he do?”

“He’s not taking the jet back to Tuscany.”

“What?” I asked, surprised.

Vicari’s face twisted into a bitter scowl. “Maybe he doesn’t trust me to deliver him home in one piece.”

it,”

sort of

I quickly explained.

question a Sicilian’s integrity. He said you swore on your dea– uh, your departed

for a few

a mildly

he no longer seemed

he’s not flying back?”

“No.”

was still

me to Sicily and sticks me in an arranged marriage – but do the rules apply to HIM? Oh,

wordlessly

out my phone to scroll through Instagram

to

reminds me,” Don Vicari said as he held out his hand.

I asked in

“Give me your phone.”

“Why?!”

you talking to girls back home when you’re supposed to

kind of nailed

wasn’t going to

aren’t any girls

contemptuous smirk. “I had my people check

I asked, trying to

you’ve got quite the reputation as a ladies’

I said humbly…

of his creepy serial killer smiles, but something with actual

did it. He was staring off past me into the

know, I was a ladies’ man back when I was your age. I courted all the

driver and the shotgun guy both

as he pointed at his men. “‘Big Dick Vicari.’

boss,”

Um…

Okay…

for my old man,” Vicari said cheerfully. “Angry fathers trying

that by ‘go away,’

Jesus fucking Christ…

a lot of bastard kids all over Sicily. Never wore

guys in the front laughed

intensely

all that stopped when I met my sainted Matelda,” Vicari said, switching on a dime from happy

driver and shotgun guy both immediately

Shotgun actually crossed himself.

face of a movie star tells me he hasn’t got

word for ‘fennel’ – but also

it?”

I said back just as

said as he held his hand for my phone.

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