Silence in New York - Book One

~Chapter 41~

"Morning," Francesco took a long drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke directly into Joe's face. He glanced over at his brother Marco and smiled as Joe tried to breathe through his coughing fit while attempting to wakeup.
The pair sat in chairs just in front of him tilting their heads observing his reaction. He clearly had no idea where he was or what was happening to him.

"Blake!" Joe screamed at the discovery of his friend lying lifelessly on the exposed concrete floor in a pool of his own blood. "No!" He continued thrashing against his restraints unable to move from the chair he was bound to.

"He's dead," Marco confirmed bluntly without a care in the world. "He's dead because he wouldn't tell us who made the move on our card game." He leaned in closer to Joe eying him firmly. He needed to know who was boss at this point in time. "Now Joe," he continued taping the barrel of his gun onto Joe's knee cap causing him to jerk backwards. "Tell us who paid you and you're free to go. Don't tell us, and you're dead."

"They'll kill me if I tell you!" Joe spat out with a mixture of fear and frustration. He was terrified and shaking knowing very well these were his final moments. He had seen their faces and he remembered exactly what Salvatore had told him back at the card game. Enjoy every last cent of that cash boys, your days are numbered.
"Please, not in the face."

"Don't be stupid Joe. My brother isn't very patient." Francesco replied shaking his head at his response knowing he had very little time left.

"I'm dead either way," Joe sobbed lowering his head in defeat. He had nothing left in him. The Gentile family were not even aware they were missing; they had barely any interest in protecting any of them.

Marco stood on his feet and disarmed the safety on his gun; all while watching Joe who would not even look up at him at this point. "You know," Marco began, "I admire your loyalty." He took a step forward and grabbed a fist full of Joe's hair yanking his head up to face him. "It's just a pity it's for the wrong side." He shoved the barrel of the gun into Joe's mouth who screamed against it before having the back of his skull blown out against the wall behind him.

"Marco." Francesco remained seated shaking his head slightly disturbed, yet it was clear he was attempting to hide a slight cheeky smile. "He said not in the face..."

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Salvatore knocked back his espresso while listening to his father's lecture regarding the disposal of Mike. Although he had tried to keep his father in the dark about what had happened nothing got past him.
He browsed through his phone sending yet another text message to Adriana who had yet to reply to any of his messages or phone calls. He was fully aware that she had decided to lock herself away from himself and Claudia by checking into a hotel in the city. It had been days though, and her silence was killing him.

"Ma mi stai ascoltando?" (Are you listening to me?) His father Domenico asked annoyed as Salvatore shot him an annoyed look.

"Si papà," he lied pressing the side button of his cell phone killing the light instantly.

"You're not listening Salvo. Did you think I wouldn't notice?" He challenged raising his voice, "you think you can just tell your men to dump hands in the pig pen and I would just be ok with it? Use your head Salvatore."

"Are we done?" Salvatore rose to his feet pushing the wooden chair backwards scraping the legs against the tile floors. He was more than eager to end the conversation and leave the estate. He watched his father stand up just as eagerly as him and slam his clenched fists onto the dark wooden table top.

"No! We are not done!" He retorted angrily. "Sit back down now!" At this point his Consigliere, Giacomo was also at his feet, as were the security team who waited patiently by the door.
Domenico looked past Salvatore and over at the security team quickly acknowledging them, "my son does not leave." He focused his attention back to his son before taking his place back in his seat. Eventually Salvatore followed his lead and sat back down biting his tongue in the process.

"I suppose I don't even get to explain then?" He asked leaning back into his chair, he watched his father motion his hand indicating that he was free to explain. "Adriana was in trouble."

"Of course it was a woman," Domenico shook his head and chuckled to himself frustrated, he turned his head to look at Giacomo giving him a disapproving look.

"Jesus Christ papà. It wasn't like that. I found her bound to a fũcking chair because of us. I don't even know who the guy was, I broke into his apartment and it was empty! Just a few boxes of crap, there's no way he was living there every day. He was placed there to watch her, watch her because of me, because of us!" His right hand motioning in the space between them angrily. "As if I don't have enough on my plate with these card game idiots, now this! Someone came after her."

"So I assume you shot to kill instead of asking questions?"

"You weren't there!" Salvatore roared smacking the table with an open palm, the sound reverberating throughout the room. "He was going to kill her."

"Are you so sure that she was worth saving? You could have retrieved a name for the family. You made a mistake."

"Like hell I did!" Salvatore rose to his feet once again. This time turning to walk towards the door, the security team instantly moving to block his exit. "MOVE!"

"SALVATORE! We are not done here!"

Salvatore spun around to face his father, "oh we are done padre. Tell your men to step aside before I withdraw my gun." The pair stood their ground, neither making a move patiently waiting for the other to react. The tension in the room had escalated to an all time high.

Domenico closed his eyes and exhaled a long shaky breath. He didn't want to fight with his son, not Salvatore. His prize possession. He was the only son with enough determination to continue the family business. Yes, Francesco and Marco were great sons. Always doing what they were told, but they didn't have the heart. They didn't have it in them to make the decisions he knew Salvatore could, they were too soft. In this line of business if you're too soft, you become a target. If you become a target, you die.

He opened his eyes and hung his head low."Let him leave," the men stepped aside instantly allowing Salvatore to angrily push by them and disappear out the door instantly.

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Adriana gulped down the remains of the pink lemonade cocktail scrunching her nose up disapprovingly as the overly sweet flavour overpowered her tastebuds. "Uggh, that was disgusting!" She complained loudly to her group of girlfriends who were showering her with alcohol.

"Oh come on," Carla playfully bumped her with her shoulder; "we're getting you drunk tonight!" She signalled the bartender tapping her fingers on the counter, "another please!"

"No!" Adriana protested immediately, "no more cocktails!"

"You heard her bartender," Carla winked placing her credit card in front of the awaiting bartender, "tequila shots for everyone, hell. Give us all doubles!"

The ladies picked up the shot glasses eagerly, raising their glasses towards Adriana who could not wipe the smile off her face if she wanted too. "Seriously guys, this is too much," she brought her left hand to her lips, licking the space between her thumb and forefinger then sprinkling the salt over ensuring the grains of salt remained on her skin before picking up her lime wedge. "Bottoms up!" Her tongue darting out to lick the salt clean off her hand before bringing the shot glass to her lips. She threw her head back letting the bitter warm tequila slide down her throat, burning on its way down before eagerly sucking on the lime wedge. The sour flavour neutralising the bitter after taste of the hard liquor.