A Mob Boss's Dominance (Book 4-About Tristan)

43. Irish Calling

Jackson was pacing the floor at the private section of his club. He was thinking hard. From time to time he walked to the table where glasses of cocktails and champagne were placed for him. He drank a glass and carried on walking back and forth. He was thinking about the path in front of him. He had the upper hand because of who he was and his legacy of his family. If anyone struck him, he could retaliate. But it didn't ease the part of him that was disturbed by Vincenzo's abrupt arrival in New York. The young don had sent him a package. It was a box of blood orange which symbolised death in some ways but also it was the souvenir of Sicily. He couldn't know what it meant unless there was follow up. That boy was trouble. He knew that much. He had his father's will and his risk taking spirit. Francesco was a different breed to his peers. There was no one like him. Only time could tell what his son could be capable of.

Jackson had two options. One was to wait and one was to strike to prevent any future confrontations. Dealing with the rosarios was not simple. No Rosario wanted him to live. His feelings were mutual, almost mutual. He only wanted Anna to live. If he trusted for all rosarios to be wiped out with one mission he would have ordered it in a heart beat. But of course they had a large web of networks protecting them. He held Francesco responsible. He was the mastermind. He had tried to get through any loop holes. But there wasn't any.

Francesco did not have Sicilian ties. He had cut off all communication with Sicilians but he was in touch with his least hated uncle, Pietro. He had put in place measures to insure them. There was no way in unless Jackson went into hold a mob war. He could win but only if Francesco died. If it wasn't for Francesco he could be ruling New York.  If it wasn't for Francesco he could have Anna. If it wasn't for Francesco he could sell half the Italian mob families to FBI. The Irish had contacts in FBI. It was easier to bribe them to overlook Irish names. But any businessman with an Italian name was guilty until proven innocent but Francesco had taken care of his allies. He had built a wall that stopped FBI tracing illegal activities. Anyone with loose ties with Francesco could be lamb for the slaughter. He wanted to destroy the Italians. The fire inside him had been ignited even more for revenge after his latest meeting with Anna. She was in New York. He had bumped into her attending a meeting with a fashion company he owned. She had come by to place orders. He had taken the opportunity to monitor her movements. When he had seen her across the building he had become jealous, angry, sick with want. Here she was here in New York defenceless in his building. The call of temptation was strong. He had to murder Arturo. He had to do it. There was no other way around it. But he was torn on going against his decision to wait for the events to unfold. He had unsuccessfully tried to murder Angelia Andovini who he wanted dead to send a message out there and destroy the last of that scum family he hated so much. If she died also his good friends daughter, Reagan O'Reily could unite with Viggo. The attempt on her life had gone wrong. He had to wait. He had to watch when Francesco was going to strike. He wasn't too worried about Vincenzo. If he attacked it was going to be direct. He was going to kill him. But if Jackson went down he was going to take down so many with him. It was a well known fact. Francesco was not going to kill him but he was going to be a phantom hovering above him making him watch his back until he asked for him to pay for his mistake. Francesco could be playing games. He was ready. He had to wait. But he was tempted to go after his temptation. He blamed Francesco for his crisis. If it wasn't for Francesco, then Anna's father wouldn't have dared give her away to Arturo. She was meant to be his. Her children were meant to be his and not Arturo's. Andreas and Amethyst were meant to be his children with an O'Kane name engraved on a locket around their necks rather than having an Agostini engraving. Anna's children were brought with her. She wanted them to attend some college open days in their winter break. Agostini was in Italy. Anna was in New York. If he ordered a hit on her husband she was going to be his. But it wasn't that simple.