Promised For Truce

Chapter 16

"Their men have been keeping track of several families for some time now. They must already know of our arrangement with New Orleans considering a rather large group of us left the city to attend the wedding," Nero said as he presented Luciano with four printed photos of Irish soldiers and lined them up on the desk. "This one regularly drives by Nonno." He pushed the photo in Luciano's direction. It showed a man with a thin moustache and a goatee. "And- well, you already know but this one follows you," Nero said as he pointed at the picture on the far right.

Luciano grabbed the picture closest to him then muttered, "Even Nonno they won't leave alone." He folded it and tucked it in his back pocket. "Leave the other watchdogs be. I'll handle this one personally."

"If we attack, they will retaliate. Our men's lives are at stake." Nero implored his Don to change his mind.

Luciano flung him a hard glare. "They are on our territory."

"Yes, but they're not doing any funny business on our grounds," Nero said calmly. "Except for keeping an eye on us, of course."

"Stop playing devil's advocate."

"It's my job."

"Fine, you're fired."

The two of them let their eyes meet. The smirk on both their faces grew and soon evolved into chuckling.

"I'm happy to join if you plan on skinning him alive."

I'm sure you would, you sick fuck. Luciano knew exactly how depraved he himself could be sometimes. But his consigliere was far worse. Their pristine wear was truly nothing more than a flimsy cover-up for what laid underneath.

Luciano shook his head before Nero got the chance to let his imagination run wild. "I intend to send the bastard back to them. Alive, but handicapped." He stacked the other pictures on top of each other and stored them into the desk's drawer. "Maybe then they'll know not to walk into our streets without looking over their shoulder."

Keeping the Irish soldier alive was not showing mercy. Luciano's decision was nothing short of cruel. Surviving the dangers in that life without any handicaps was difficult as is. The man would be treated as nothing more than dead weight, and sooner rather than later his own comrades would put lead in his head for it.

"As your advisor, I have no complaints about keeping him alive. It's less likely to get picked up by the cops and feds but what about the promises you made during your speech. The family won't keep quiet if you don't deliver; lip service alone won't do."

"We'll have a proper war – in time," Luciano said, a thirst for it showing through his expression.

Nero remained silent, simply accepting the promise.

As Luciano and his cousin exited the mansion through the front door, he asked, "What time do you need to be at the hospital?"

Nero got in his car and read the time on his watch. "In an hour and thirty-eight minutes."

Luciano signed the gatekeeper to open the tall gates. "Say hello to your father for me," Luciano said to Nero, slammed the car door shut and watched him drive off.

He would've gone back inside the mansion if it wasn't for the glimpse he got of his wife. His steps lead him to round the corner, reaching the side of the house, and had to do a double-take when he saw Nina. A plaid button-up shirt, gardening trousers and bulky boots were not the things he was used to seeing on his wife. It fascinated him. With her back to him, she let her weight partly be supported by the shovel. His eyes swept the area. On his left were heaps of soil on the short grass and a row of holes in the ground. On his right were gardenia bushes waiting to be planted along the side of the mansion.