Crime and Family

By Joseph Montgomery

Crime and Family centers on the life of Dominic Amicucci. Growing up without a mother, he wanted nothing more than the approval of his father. In time, young Dominic grew to understand his fathers approval would only come by his involvement in the family business: crime. Dominics fathers star would rise all the way to the top, a position that would earn him a twenty year sentence, leaving Dominic to run his fathers crime family. Wanting the job or not, qualified or not, Dominic Amicucci became the youngest boss in the crime familys eighty year existence.



Before becoming boss, Dominics father searched for new avenues of revenue as the government imprisoned the entire hierarchy. He found Doug Sullivan and his non-Italian congeries of killers, drug dealers, and bookmakers that would become known as the Westside. Dominic and Doug became best friends, and after Dominics fathers imprisonment, they would be the ones to keep the Amicucci family in power, by any means necessary.



From inside prison walls to the streets of Europe and the Middle East, Crime and Family will take readers through the daily activities of the crime family and their relationships to other criminal enterprises across the globe while trying to raise their children to be so much different from themselves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 12, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465309297

Book preview

CHAPTER I

Betrayal

"E IGHT BALL, SIDE pocket."

Dominic Amicucci nonchalantly drew his cue stick back and sank the eight ball in the side for the win. Double or nothing?

Angelo Rea forced a smile and pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket and dropped it on the pool table. And lose three in a row? No thanks. Listen, Dom, I been meaning to talk to you about something.

Finally! Dominic had sensed all day something was on his younger cousin’s mind. Let’s go out by the horseshoe pit, he said, pointing to the ceiling to remind Angelo of possible wiretaps.

It was Sunday at the Amicucci’s Emery Beach household, and as usual, his family was gathered at his father’s and stepmother’s house for a massive dinner. He smelled marinara as they went upstairs from the basement and into the kitchen. Dominic’s Aunt Marie, Angelo’s mother, spotted them.

Where are you two off to, looking so suspicious?

Just playing some horseshoes, Mom, Angelo said as Dominic reached for a cannoli.

She slapped his hand away. What the hell’s wrong with you?

What? I wanted a cannoli.

After dinner.

Dominic smiled. Despite being in his late thirties and being the acting boss of the Amicucci crime family since his father went to prison, he knew he would always be a child to his Aunt Marie. She had practically raised him since his mother died when he was three. He was in charge of a criminal organization, could order the death of someone and hundreds of men would follow the order without a second thought, but, he couldn’t have a cannoli before dinner.

Why don’t you go barbecue with your uncles? she said. You could never get your fathers away from those grills, let me tell you.

Maybe later, Dominic answered as he thought back to when his and Angelo’s incarcerated fathers were free to man the grills.

He glanced at Angelo as they walked out to the back patio, past their barbecuing uncles to the horseshoe pit. The fact that Angelo had waited until Sunday to tell him something meant there was a serious problem. Dominic suspected that Angelo was using the crowd of family members to lessen Dominic’s anger at him.

As the cousins passed the pool, Dominic’s half-sister, Valentina, lying in the sun with her friends, Sabrina and Angelo’s fiancée, Angela, flagged them down and stopped them at the pool gate.

Dominic, Tom just called. He’s on his way, and needs a minute with you.

On a Sunday?

That irritated him. Tom Caruso was a lieutenant in the crime family and unfortunately for Dominic, his sister’s father-in-law felt he had a direct line to Dominic as the acting boss.

Valentina looked toward the horseshoe pits, then back to Dominic. You’re too busy going to play horseshoes? Besides, Tom’s a part of this family. He can have dinner here if he wants.

Yeah, except he’s not coming for dinner.

You think he’d come here just to see you? Well, if you can spare a minute for my husband’s father, Dom, I’d be personally indebted to you, she said sarcastically and walked back to her lounger.

Why aren’t you girls in the kitchen cooking with everyone else? Dominic yelled to the trio.

Angelo’s fiancée, Angela, held up her hands. Just got the nails done. Sorry, guys. She blew a kiss to Angelo.

Let’s go, Dominic nudged his cousin and started back to the pits. What are they going to do? Eat dinner in their bikinis?

I wouldn’t complain, Angelo joked.

Okay, Ange, what happened? Dominic asked, expecting the worst when they finally arrived at the horseshoe pits.

Kenny lost the book.

What do you mean ‘lost the book?’ The book is two hundred and fifty grand.

We lost two hundred seventy-five thousand last week. Angelo couldn’t look Dominic in his eyes.

Dominic’s face started to turn red. That much? But it’s fucking baseball season!

All-Star game.

You’re shitting me, right?

I wish. Everyone took the ‘under,’ and Kenny thought it was easy money and kept all the action.

Dominic shook his head. That was dumb. Bettors bet on whether the total score would be over or under Las Vegas’ guess, and Fat Kenny Infelice had decided all the under bettors were suckers and kept all the action, instead of laying some off to other bookmakers. All-Star games are normally high scoring events.

So he bet the ‘over,’ Dominic said, almost to himself. He bet money that wasn’t his to bet with, and bet the ‘over.’

Not intentionally, Dom. It’s not Kenny’s…

Dominic ignored him. You’ve got to replace it. And tell Jackie Beans I want to see him tomorrow. He’s supposed to be watching them assholes. Jackie Beans was Jack Pinto, an old friend to Dominic’s father, who was officially in charge of running their bookmaking operation.

I’m sure Jackie knows.

You haven’t even talked to him yet? Two hundred and seventy five grand? What the fuck? You waited four days to tell me, for what?

Angelo stared at the ground, saying nothing.

Were you scared? You know what’s really scary, Ange? You getting married in two months and going in hock for a quarter mil.

Dom, you know I don’t have that kind of money right now. I just bought that fancy house that Angela wanted.

What—I should pay? It’s a dummy-proof operation, so what the fuck does that make you guys? You know, Ange, my father always said, ‘Show me a bookie that bets, and I’ll show you a bookie owned by the loan sharks.’

"But I didn’t bet it! They should do the borrowing."

"Well, now that sounds like the first boss-like decision you’ve made since I promoted you to captain, to tell them that they owe you the money. Way to hold them accountable. Either way, though, it’s not my problem."

Dominic patted his shoulder and turned to leave. He paused. Oh, and Ange. I better not hear of any bettors not getting paid, capische?

Of course not, Dom.

As Dominic walked back toward the house, his sister’s father-in-law, Tom Caruso approached him.

Tom, I’m not in the mood. He kept walking.

Tom kept pace. It’ll just take a minute, Dom, please.

Dominic kept walking. Have you told your captain whatever the fuck you need to tell me?

No, I was hoping to avoid that.

Dominic stopped and turned to him. "Dammit. Just because your son married my sister, doesn’t mean you skip protocol and come right to me. You always talk to your captain first. Do you want your guys going over your head?"

I just need a minute, Dom.

You’re so fucking persistent, it’s like you’re wearing a wire or something.

Come on, that’s why you won’t talk to me? Frisk away, then. Tom raised his arms and turned around.

Knock it off, I’m not frisking you. You got your fucking minute, you pain in the ass. Go.

I need money.

Dominic was stunned. Even an idiot could make money with Tom’s crews. How the fuck do you need money?

My book got crushed, four hundred thou, Dom, I don’t know what to do

Four hundred grand? Dominic almost yelled. How? And you better not say ‘All-Star game.’

How’d you know?

Because I’m the only one with half a fucking brain around here, that’s how. You got played. Find out who the bettors were, or who they bet for. And you gotta fucking suck it up and go see your captain. You should have done that day one.

He turned to leave, and stopped. And get the fuck out of here. You’re not staying for dinner, either, you fucking asshole.

Dominic’s mind was spinning as he walked and lit a cigarette. Had several crews taken the same big hits? That would mean disaster. Tomorrow he’d meet with Jackie Beans and find out what was going on at the book. He could still track the bettors down. And he’d tell his captains to look into any unusual All-Star game betting. He wanted answers before he visited with his father, the crime family’s official boss, in prison on Thursday. And besides—Danny Serafini, the crime family’s underboss, would be home from his five-year prison stint in just two weeks. Dominic sure didn’t want this to be his first impression of how he handled the crime family.

*     *     *

The next morning, Dominic was eating breakfast when he heard a knock on the door. Boss, Jackie’s here, Eugene Scary Scarelli told him after opening it.

Dominic nodded and wiped his mouth with a napkin. Send him in, he told the Amicucci crew’s top enforcer. Dominic sighed and pushed away his breakfast he had cooked on the oven in the office of one of the two Amicucci headquarters, the Amicucci Bread Distribution Company. The crew simply called it ‘The Bakery.’

He watched Scary Scarelli disappear behind the closed door and Dominic’s mind started to wander. He had known Scary all of his life, same with Jackie Beans who would be walking in that door any moment. Almost everyone close to him, he had known his entire life.

Morning, Dominic, Jackie said as he entered.

You hungry? There’s eggs and bacon on the stove. Dominic took one look at Jackie Beans and knew he had tied one on last night. His drinking was a concern for Dominic. Jackie had worked in the Amicucci bookmaking operation since he was a teenager, as they all did, if not younger, and had been placed in charge of the book six years ago.

Nah, I’m good, the sixty year old answered.

We’ve known each other long enough to not beat around any bushes. How long you been drinking again? You said you were on the wagon.

I ain’t drinking. I’m just not feeling well.

Dominic knew he wouldn’t get anywhere questioning him about his drinking. The man’s wife had already left him long ago because of it. In his bouts of soberness he’d tried to make amends with his wife and son. He eventually put his son through college and bought his wife a big house. He himself lived in his one bedroom apartment a few blocks from the bakery.

I know why you wanted to see me, Jackie said.

Dominic held up his hand to stop, Outside. He was raised in this life and was very conscientious about FBI wiretaps and surveillance. Despite a state-of—the-art alarm system, Dominic had his crew watch the security videos from the night before after everyone had gone home to look for intruders. He kept a scanner that jams transmissions on FBI bugs, but, he still insisted on talking outside.

So what the fuck happened with the All-Star game? Dominic asked him once they were outside in the back parking lot.

I don’t know, Dominic. These fucking kids, they’re idiots. I gave them too much room. It’s my fault, and I’ll take care of it.

We’re not paying them, Dominic said.

We’re not? Jackie looked surprised. No offense, Dominic, but that wouldn’t be good for business. Who wants a bookie that doesn’t pay?

Tom Caruso’s book got hit, too. Four hundred large. I’m going to find out how many others, but, we got to track these bettors.

Well, if this is what you’re thinking, the biggest bets are going be dead ends.

Yeah, I know. Who has the fucking balls to try this?

Jackie shrugged. Well, if it’s just these two books, it could be just a coincidence. But there’s probably more. The question is, who’d know which books would be dumb enough to keep that kind of action? That’s some excellent inside information.

Dominic paused a moment to think, then dropped his head at the recognition. One of us, he said. A family member.

Yup, has to be someone that personally knew everyone that kept the action. If this was New York, there’d be all kinds of groups that could pull this off, but not here. It’s gotta be somebody that deals with a lot of our books. Another bookie, maybe.

It’s one fucking thing after another, Dominic griped. It was just last December when Dominic succeeded in putting down a rebellion in his family that resulted in the Christmas Eve Massacre and the Amicucci crime family gaining national notoriety.

I’ll start on my end and get to the Corner, Jackie said of the headquarters for the bookmaking operation, Cooch’s Corner, owned by Dominic’s father. Guess I better hang around a bit more, eh?

Would you mind? Dominic asked sarcastically. This whole thing shouldn’t have gotten this far. A veteran like Jackie Beans would’ve noticed the unusual betting and laid off the appropriate amount to balance the bet against the ‘over’.

I just don’t like baseball. It’s boring to me.

Dominic ignored his statement. Go there now and tell them no one even takes a piss without you knowing. And you tell fat fucking Kenny, he’s done at the book. I don’t want to see him anywhere near a betting sheet. Then you look at the books, like you better do every fucking day from here on out, and see who placed those bets.

I’m sorry. I’m on it, Jackie told him and opened the backdoor as Angelo was coming out.

Well? Dominic hissed at his cousin.

No one else under me lost anything big, Angelo reported.

Dominic lit a cigarette and looked at Angelo with suspicion. What’d you hear?

Someone under Benny Mancini took a bigger loss than Tom Caruso. Benny was another captain and was the same age as Dominic. In fact, they went to the same high school, they had just belonged in different crews.

Angelo, the next thing I’m going to drag out of you is going to be your fucking tongue. Who under Benny Mancini?

Henry Agosto took a half million dollar loss.

Dominic was stunned. The Amicuccis had always had their power base in Clemency, Michigan, as did Henry Agosto. There were a few other mobbed-up books in the city, but, these two were by far the biggest. The Agosto book is older than ours. And the two biggest books in Clemency get hit? I think our starting point is right here in Clemency. Dominic stopped for a moment in thought and then punched the air. God Dammit, if people were doing their jobs, this can’t happen. Why the fuck can’t people lay off the bets?

It’s just mistakes, Dom, I’m sure it’s nothing on purpose.

Dominic dropped his cigarette and stepped on it. You want to tell that to my dad?

No, I don’t.

Then shut the fuck up, Ange. Dominic walked back into the bakery and found Scary waiting for him in the office. What’s this? he asked him when Scary handed him some index cards.

Index cards, he answered proudly. It’s your meetings today.

Where’s Gary? Gary Nussman was the non-Italian of the crew and another Amicucci enforcer. But, unlike Scary, he had some intelligence. He was responsible for the operations of the bakery itself and he set up Dominic’s appointments. Dominic would tell him in the morning who he wanted see that day and Gary would go out and set it up.

He had to leave. He didn’t want to interrupt you with Jackie and he left when Angelo showed up. He told the meetings and I wrote them down on these.

It’s just a name and a number on each card, Dominic said as he flipped through them. Oh, except for Jackie Beans. You wrote Jackie Beans, nine am. I thought you wrote these after Jackie was here.

I did.

Then why fucking write Jackie’s name when he’s already here? Dominic asked in bewilderment.

To keep it all together for you, Boss, he answered.

Dominic looked at Angelo. "At least he knows his limitations, you should get some of these, he said as he pointed the six cards at Angelo. Good job, Scary. Now let’s go do what you do, look scary. Next time, just write them all on one card, it’s less to burn," Dominic suggested to Scary on the way out for Dominic’s first meeting.

It was twenty minutes to seven that evening when Scary and Dominic pulled into the Bally’s parking lot after meeting with three of the crime family’s six captains. He was tired from all of the driving. They drove an hour on the freeway and randomly got off and chose a bar or restaurant and then called the captain with the number that Gary Nussman had acquired that morning. Then Dominic and Scary waited the time it took the captain to arrive, pretty much two hours per meeting of drive and wait time. It was Dominic’s way to shed any surveillance and not let anyone ever know where he would be ahead of time. The down side was that it took eight hours to have three meetings.

At Bally’s, he was meeting Fabian Bosca and Mario Marconi, two other captains and two of Dominic’s closest friends since childhood. They worked out together and talked business here every other day.

His meetings for the day frustrated him greatly and he felt the need for a good workout, that and the fact of how much he was eating nowadays with all of these meetings. He had a meal and a few drinks at all three meetings today. His meetings went from good, to bad, to horrible.

Captain, Jack Mattea, whom Dominic distrusted but made a captain after serving ten years simply because he was a Mattea and was considered mob royalty, reported nothing unusual. The Matteas were the founding family of the organization.

Captain, Benny Mancini, was hit hard with eight hundred thousand in losses, which included the Agosto book’s half million. And captain, Eugene Modica, also in his eighties like Jack Mattea, had news that hit harder than all of the money being reported lost on the All-Star game.

According to him, Dominic’s boyhood friend and acting captain, Fabian Bosca, was running an insurance scam that coincided with one of Eugene’s, and he’d taken ninety thousand dollars of business that was due one of Eugene’s lieutenants. Fabian had no insurance racket that Dominic was aware of.

You know of Fabian doing anything on the sly? Dominic asked Scary as they got out of Dominic’s black F-350, which he cherished.

Other than broads, no, Scary answered with a shrug.

Dominic stopped in his tracks as Scary was right beside him. Where are you going? he asked the six foot five, three hundred and ten pound big man.

With you, why?

Stay with the truck, he ordered. I don’t want no feds around my truck, got it?

I’m sorry, Dom. I’m usually going inside to threaten someone.

Just stay with the truck, he ordered again and walked off with his duffel bag.

Inside, he signed in and the pretty brunette at the desk told him Mario was upstairs waiting for him and that Fabian had not arrived. After a few flirtatious minutes, Dominic went to the locker room to change. He met Mario upstairs, and they walked the track together. They talked in whispers and changed subjects when someone was near. It wasn’t beneath the feds to send in an agent to work out and spy on them.

It’s at almost one and half million dollars, most of it already paid, he told Mario.

Why’d they take more action than they had in money? Mario asked. It defeats the whole idea of a cap.

That’s because some dickhead knew which books had the assholes that don’t understand that. You’re sure your crews lost nothing?

Mario shook his head. They’d have come to me for money by now, like Angelo finally did with you.

Dominic stopped walking. Look, Mario, when Jerry Lissoni rebelled and we killed him, I made you captain to replace him. I’d almost bet everything I got that this under bullshit is coming from Jerry Lissoni’s old crews. I know I put you in a spot where everyone over there hates you, but, I need to know that you would know if they’re fucking us.

The two waited for another walker to pass them before they started back up. Dom, do you think that after what you did when Jerry Lissoni rebelled that any of his crew that was alive would even think about getting out of line? I mean, a rocket propelled grenade blew up the house all fucking twenty of them were at.

Yeah, we got famous on that one, head line news across the country. The Christmas Eve Massacre, Dominic mocked of the tabloids’ billing. Shit, I think it’s only been a month since the feds started giving me an inch to breathe again. And you know I hardly had anything to do with that plan anyway, right? But, that’s neither here nor there right now, we need to hammer this down.

I’ll keep looking, Mario said. You know I’ve only been out of your crew now since January, Dom. What the fuck happened? Kenny can’t handle that kind of action.

I’m blaming Jackie for not being there, but I need him now. You know anything about Fabian running some insurance racket? Dominic asked.

He’s got a lot of things going on, but I don’t know about no insurance. Why, what’s up?

I just heard he did, that’s all. No big deal.

Scary Scarelli came from behind, and handed Dominic a non-registered prepaid phone used for short periods of time, sometimes one or two conversations, and then discarded. Personal cell phones were assumed to be recorded by the FBI.

Dom, it’s your dad. His father’s guards let him use a cell phone in exchange for money. A lot of money.

You’re supposed to stay with my truck. Call me on my other cell next fucking time and I’ll come down. Dammit, he complained as he walked away with Scary in tow.

He went back to the parking lot where he could be alone and watch his truck. He didn’t want to give the FBI five minutes alone with his truck to put in a bug.

Hey, Dad, what’s up?

Where are you? his father asked him.

Working out with Mario, why?

I hear you’re meeting all the captains today. What happened?

Dominic shut his eyes in disbelief. He thought he had until Thursday, fucking Eddie Turco. I’ll tell you about it when I see you Thursday.

Eddie Turco was Nick Amicucci’s cellmate and a Michigan gangster that had been off the streets for the past twenty years, and looking at forty more. Eddie’s son was in the life but was retired by his father’s wishes after the feds clamped down on the family in the 1990s. Eddie Jr., though retired, kept his ears to the streets and served as another set of eyes for Nick Amicucci.

Why? You’re on a clean phone, right?

Yeah, it’s just…

Are you not alone?

No, I’m alone.

No other excuses not to talk to me then. What happened?

I just wanted more info before I talked to you, that’s all.

Okay, I won’t judge. Maybe I can help. Lay it on me.

Dominic didn’t buy one ounce of that I won’t judge crap. He knew his dad’s first words would be, you shoulda’ done this and you shoulda’ done that.

We lost a ton on the All-Star game last week.

How much is a ton?

Our book lost two hundred seventy-five grand, Tom Caruso lost four hundred, and there are others.

There was silence for about thirty seconds before Nick spoke. I’m not judging, but how did we lose so much? Especially on the fucking All-Star game?

Jackie let Kenny run the baseball season, and he thought he’d make a quick buck for us.

Fat Kenny? Nick’s voice was starting to rise.

Yeah, Dominic answered, bracing himself.

How about my daughter’s father-in-law, Tom?

Tom lost his himself. He didn’t have any assholes to blame, he’s his own asshole.

Can’t be any random winning streak or coincidence? Nick asked.

No, it’s an inside job. One of our own hit us, and it’s already over a million dollars. And of course it’s just coming out now, so all the fucking Friday books already got paid. I stopped payment on the Tuesday books.

Nick was quiet a few moments. Sounds like you got a good handle on it. Uncle Ziggy’s having dinner at our house tonight, you should be there. Sal’s picking up your grandma. Dominic’s Uncle Ziggy was actually Nick’s uncle and a retired gangster that moved to Florida upon his release after seven years of prison. Sal was Dominic’s younger half-brother and forbidden from ‘the life’.

I’ll try. I got a lot to do here. I’m shooting for a date tonight. Maybe with the brunette at the desk, Dominic thought.

Fabian Bosca pulled into the parking lot, late for their workout. Scary flagged him down and told him to wait outside while Dominic finished his phone call.

Okay, good luck with that, I’ll let you go. I got a chess game in twenty minutes against some hick. He laughed. A hick playing chess. We’re betting twenty-five candy bars, should be a big draw. That explains Nick’s good mood, Dominic thought. Let me know what you find out on Thursday, and be careful.

Speaking of careful, where’s Doug?

Doug Sullivan, the Westside crew leader, was locked up with Dominic’s father doing ten years. He was the enforcement for the Amicuccis and the crime family’s biggest earning crew, all non-Italians. He was acquitted of other charges in Miami a few months earlier due to a rushed trial after the public’s call for justice from the Christmas Eve Massacre which caused almost thirty deaths.

In Miami, Nick said.

I don’t think he is, and why would he be? He was not guilty. He should be back with you by now.

I don’t know, ask Tommy. Tommy Herrick was Doug’s stand-in while he was away and the orchestrator of the Christmas Eve Massacre.

I do. He gets all weird, like you do, and tells me to ask you. If it wasn’t you two, I’d think he’d gone rat.

You just take care of your betting problem there. Oh, and you got to throw a big party for Danny and Vinny Jag. Vinny Jagge had the same release date as the crime family’s underboss, and was supposed to take over as captain for Fabian.

Speaking of Vinny Jag, are you really going to make me demote Fabian? He’s made us so much money, and he’s loyal, Dad, Dominic said.

What part of ‘acting’ captain is so hard to understand? His job was for five years. Five years is up, and Vinny’s coming home. Fabian’s job is over. I love the kid, you know I practically raised him, but rules are rules, Dominic. Be sure to throw Danny and Vinny a nice party.

I will. I’ll get some strippers and…

No strippers, you dumb fuck. You ever see Danny with a stripper?

I’ve seen Danny with other women. And after five years…

You better be fucking with me. A family party, and if you’re going to have one at my club, just have the crew. No women, Dominic. Okay?

Dominic smiled. Sure, but if I do five years, I want two strippers for every year I’m in.

Whatever. Nick hung up the phone.

Him and his fucking high horse, Dominic said to himself, putting his phone away and walking over to Fabian. You got some fucking insurance scam running that I don’t know of?

What do you mean?

Eugene Modica says you scammed one his companies for ninety grand. Is that true?

Fabian thought for a second. Ninety grand? You mean T&B Enterprises?

I don’t fucking know, Fabian, Dom yelled. That’s why I’m asking you. His bodyguard inched closer.

I didn’t know they were connected. I’ll talk to Eugene. What are you yelling about?

You’ll talk to Eugene? No, you’ll give Eugene the ninety grand, Dominic said.

For what? He didn’t do anything. I’ll give twenty-five percent as an apology, but that’s it.

What the fuck are you doing, Fabian?

I’m fucking earning! Ain’t that what I’m supposed to be doing?

Yeah, but not out of the mouths of other made men, Dominic said.

Oh, really? You took six crews out of my family’s mouths and gave them to Jack fucking Mattea when he got out. You’re godfather to both of my daughters, and you put Jack Mattea over my family? Fabian’s first daughter died when she was ten.

And there it was. You did this, didn’t you?

Did what? Fabian asked in disgust.

You pulled the ‘under’ scam, you motherfucker. He grabbed Fabian by his shirt. Fabian stumbled back as he shoved Dominic away, and was dropped to the ground by an overhand right by Scary that he never saw coming. Dominic looked at Scary as Fabian lay motionless in the parking lot. That wasn’t necessary.

I’m supposed to let him throw you around?

He didn’t throw me around, Dominic said, trying to keep some pride.

Well, he’s not supposed to put his hands on the boss.

Dominic couldn’t deny the logic. He did do that, didn’t he? A little tact though, eh? Maybe a headlock, a chokehold.

Scary shrugged and they both stared at Fabian on the ground, who was starting to get up. What do you want to do with him?

Take him to his car before someone comes, Dominic answered, looking around the parking lot.

Fabian pushed Scary away when he tried to help him up. Keep your fucking hands off me, I’m a captain. He turned to Dominic. What the fuck, Dominic? I want him dead.

Scary threw his huge shoulders back and walked toward Fabian. Come on and kill me, then.

Hey! Knock it the fuck off. Both men turned to look at Dominic. "Fabian, swear to me on the soul of your dead daughter that you didn’t take down our book. The same book you grew up in, that we grew up in. Swear to me you didn’t."

His eyes met Fabian’s, and he had his answer. Dominic dropped his head. Scary, let him have it.

Scary was on him instantly. You mean a headlock like this, Dom? When Fabian landed an elbow in Scary’s gut, playtime was over. He lifted his knee and drove Fabian’s head right into it, splitting his forehead open, and dropped him back to the concrete, belly up. Fabian staggered to his feet, hunched over. One hand covered his cut forehead, his other hand took a lazy swing at Scary, who slapped it away and countered with an uppercut to Fabian’s jaw, dropping him to his knees. Scary looked back at Dominic. Seeing no response, he shrugged and landed a right cross, opening a gash above Fabian’s left eye and rendering him unconscious.

Dominic glanced around again to make sure no one was there, and called Mario, who was still in the gym. Time to go, he said. He hung up, and looked down at his best friend’s beaten and bloody body on the ground. He turned to Scary and motioned to Fabian’s Benz. Put him in the trunk.

CHAPTER II

Revelations

F ABIAN AWOKE IN a dimly lit room. He could make out only a silhouette sitting in a chair. He grabbed his head, throbbing in pain from the beating he took from Scary Scarelli, and pulled himself to his feet. Dominic? Is that you?

Yeah, it’s me.

Oh, my head. The pain dropped Fabian back to his knees, and he noticed he was on a plastic tarp. Where are we?

We’re in my basement, Dominic said, still not exposing himself to the dim light.

Is this plastic?

That’s so the blood doesn’t get on the carpet.

Fabian understood the world he lived in and knew what it meant to lay down the plastic. You really gonna whack me, brother?

It’s what our life says to do in this situation, brother.

No one got hurt, Dom. Fabian couldn’t even stand. No one but me, at least. You can have the money back.

Can I really? Gee, thanks, buddy. Or maybe you should tell me I can have only twenty-five percent, as an apology. After all, you did do all the work.

I’m sorry, Dom. What do I gotta do here?

Start with why, tell me why. You need money? You got to be bringing in ten million a year from Mexico alone.

Until Vinny Jagge gets out, Fabian said.

Grow the fuck up. You can’t live on that after kicking up to Vinny?

Can you live on less, Dom?

Dominic finally came into the light. Fabian could see they were alone, but Scary was probably right up the stairs. What is your fucking problem with me all of a sudden, huh?

My problem with you? You’ve had a hard-on for me ever since your father gave me my own crews. What? Did you want that? Fabian told of his promotion to lieutenant after Nick became a captain.

You’re talking over ten years ago. I was never going anywhere but my father’s side. He’d never send me off like he did you. And when did I ever give you a hard time?

Always busting my balls over money, all the fucking time, Fabian answered.

You mean when you were late all the fucking time when you first became a captain?

You treat me like we’ve never known each other our whole lives. When was the last time we went for beer, huh?

Are you serious? What the fuck’s the matter with you?

And what about Angela? Fabian asked.

Angela who?

Your wife.

Dominic was totally confused. What about her?

That wasn’t no mugging, you whacked her. Why? Because she couldn’t have kids? You fucking animal! We all grew up together, remember? My wife still asks if we found that mugger. You were Angela’s whole world—you were everything to her. How could you? A woman? That’s how much you’ve changed.

You think I killed Angela? Four years ago, Dominic’s wife was shot dead in a Detroit parking garage in an apparent mugging gone wrong. Dominic was the top suspect, but, bot the FBI and local authorities had cleared him in any wrongdoing.

Everyone does. Fabian was finally able to get to his feet. Everyone does.

Dominic tossed his gun to Fabian, who almost fell back down to sidestep it. The gun tumbled to the floor. It’s not loaded. Just like I could never kill you, I could never kill her. She was my world too, you know. I’ll never marry again. I’d never disrespect her like that. No, I didn’t kill her, but I died with her. And that’s all I’ve got to say about that. None of it gives you the right to get one over on the family, nothing does.

There’re a lot of people getting over on you, Dom. Card games with secret books you don’t know nothing about, books selling coke… there’s a lot of shit you don’t know, all because you treat people like shit.

I’m not talking about that right now. We’re talking about you fucking me in the ass because I didn’t treat you as a ‘friend.’ I still don’t see how I treated you like shit. You were the first person I promoted when my dad went away.

"To an acting capo, Dominic, a temp. How about Mario? He’s a full captain. Now you give everything I made to fucking Vinny Jagge. What happens to me? I gave my crews to his fucking kid when I got the promotion, and he’s going to give them back now?"

I’ve argued with my father to do something else with Vinny and leave you the fuck alone. What am I going to do? He’s adamant. He made Vinny a capo when they all went to jail, and that’s that. His words, not mine.

I’ll be honest with you. I bought a house down there last year, a real nice villa, overlooking the ocean. My wife and daughter are down there right now. I just can’t lose Mexico. My wife, she’s been through so much. And I’m the man down there, Dom. There, they treat me like people treat you here.

Like a fucking jerk-off, apparently.

"I’m sorry, Dom. I don’t know. Sometimes, man, I feel like everyone’s against me. Ever since my baby girl died, I’m just not