Bad Things

Chapter 22

Twenty-Two
☯☯☯

[ Jay's POV ]

I left Lola with Al again in the garden, then I strode back inside the house to meet Ricardo in his office. I found him standing by his table with a glass of whiskey in hand. His consigliere, Emilio Marino, sat at the sitting area on a couch, Fabio on another one.

"Uncle?" I entered the room.

"Yes. Sit down," he said grimly, now back to business. The previous animated expressions he had displayed in the party had been completely wiped off now.

I went and sat down next to Fabio. "What's up?"

"Antonio Grassi is dead," Emilio said, "We just got the news."

I looked towards Ricardo, curious to see his reaction and wondering what might be currently running in his mind. He picked up a ferret from his table and gently ran his fingers over its head. As always, he appeared perfectly at ease.

"So, what do we do?" I asked them, "Nicolo will make his moves soon."

"He will. He's ambitious," Ricardo answered, "But first, we attend Antonio Grassi's funeral. All of us. We must pay him respect. He's a great man. We must let their family know that we intend to remain as good friends and business partners."

"Nicole won't buy it."

"No. He won't. He's hell-bent on taking our place in the business. But his family might. His younger brother, Gino might. He's young and naive for now, but he's still Antonio Grassi's son and that counts. So, how's your friendship with Gino looking up?"

I passed the question to Fabio since I hadn't got much to say about it. Gino and I had never gotten along too well. Every other day, we found something to stick our nose up against each other. In simple words, we've always been an ass to one another. So, instead of suddenly being all sweet and nice to him, I maintained distance to avoid further complications while Fabio made the approaches. Fabio was the quietest of us all and that saved him from a lot of unnecessary squabbles.

Fabio filled it on for me, "It's getting better. I invited him to attend the party today. He agreed to come but he couldn't make it because of his father. It'll get better."

"Good."

"But what are we exactly going to do with Gino? I mean why do we need him on our side all of a sudden?" I asked them.

Emilio answered, "That's none of your concern for now. We'll let you know when it's time for you to know."

"Fine."

Emilio had never felt right in his gut that Ricardo was beginning to trust Fabio and I with many important businesses. He had no objection against Ricardo's dream that Fabio should be the Don one day but, apparently, we were still too young for him to have the responsibilities bestowed upon us by Ricardo. He feared that we might be too reckless and impulsive.

The Don always had the last say but Emilio had not refrained himself from voicing his disapproval when Ricardo trusted me with the club. He'd thrown a fit and swore that I'd lose my head and make a pyramid of debts out of it instead of profit. He was a tough man to please. But Ricardo had decided to follow his own conscience. He wanted to see me try.

"How's the club?" Emilio asked, as expected.

"I sent in the papers to Uncle this morning."

Ricardo picked up a file from his desk and passed it to the Consigliere, who immediately flipped through the data. We watched and waited as his eyebrows went up. I let him take his time, knowing that soon he would be out of words, he would be impressed with the result. I had waited for this day for over a year, swore to him in the name of Ricardo that the initial losses were required and that they would roll back to us in doubles within a year.