The line of people coming to see me quickly dwindled.
Each time someone spoke, the Godfather listened to their requests, and they offered him money.
What would happen next was straightforward. The Godfather’s loyal consigliere and caporegime would ensure that the visitors’ desired outcome was prepared, no matter the means—legal or otherwise.
“Salmo, how much longer do we have?”
“About halfway through. If you’re tired, we can stop here for today.”
“Hmm…”
I paused for a moment at Salmo’s words.
There were simply too many people here to see me and Elena. Although I usually handled affairs in the eastern part of the city, including the Academy and docks, these were newcomers from all corners of the city.
“Let the next one in.”
If I didn’t do it, it would all fall on Elena. I couldn’t let that happen.
Listening to their requests typically followed this process.
Someone would enter, share their troubles, and while I quietly listened, I would issue directives. Armo would decide whom to send, while Salmo, by the window, would summarize and record the issues. Felicita was also present, but she remained silent.
For some reason, Salmo was particularly enthusiastic about this task.
While he would step in when legal measures were necessary, he did not hesitate to create an intimidating atmosphere alongside Armo, ready to assert themselves at any moment.
Of course, there were issues that I couldn’t resolve on the spot.
“Godfather, this is going to be a fantastic plan.”
A businessman placed a model of a casino on the table in the living room and said.
“If we can secure a bit more financing, it will be perfect. Truly.”
The reason he came to see me was to persuade the head of the truckers’ union, who had heard about this business plan before I did.
“What did the chairman say?”
“…He said he couldn’t risk wasting union members’ pensions on such a dangerous venture.”
Immediately, I turned to Salmo at the businessman’s response. Salmo assessed that the proposed business plan had many potential issues.
Then the businessman mentioned his past achievements.
He was trying to establish trust, but I wasn’t so sure…
“How much financing is needed to complete the casino?”
“1.16 million pounds.”
That was certainly not a small amount. However, considering the funds that the chairman of the truckers’ union had at his disposal, it wouldn’t pose any problem.
The truckers’ pension fund was a whopping 6.1 billion pounds.
The reason businessmen, especially those involved in gambling, sought out our family and the truckers’ union was simple.
In this country, money related to gambling couldn’t be handled by banks. To put it simply, one couldn’t get a loan from a bank to host a casino.
Typically, those who attracted casinos were either those businessmen or mafia members.
“….”
I exchanged glances with Salmo and Armo.
“God, Godfather! Just a moment!”
“Stop. Stop that.”
Armo stepped forward, using his bulk to eject the businessman from the living room.
There was no need to color my face red for a businessman with no substantial connections to the mafia, especially when the chairman of the family’s high-ranking officials had already declined.
“Salmo.”
“Yes, Godfather.”
“What did that guy say earlier? Something about him getting first dibs on something.”
“He mentioned a strip show. To be precise, he said he got permission for the first topless show in their state.”
“Hmm.”
If it was regarding that, the Russo Family seemed more reliable than that guy. They had expertise not just in the film industry, but also in the porn business.
I usually tried to assist with such matters. Because I could introduce a desperate businessman to the chairman and receive at least 10-20% of the loan amount in return.
There were many places money could come from, but many places it also had to go, so this was not a bad side gig.
How much time had passed? There was no one left to share their troubles with me.
“Was that last guy the end of it?”
“Yes, Godfather.”
“Good job. Luke.”
Felicita had quietly approached me by then.
“Huh… They’ll be back in a few days anyway.”
Salmo and Armo didn’t contradict me. They had seen it enough times with me.
“By the way, Salmo. Don’t you think you ought to start expanding your office?”
“Yes. I’ve been thinking about that lately.”
In gatherings like this, there wouldn’t be a lack of muscle from either Armo or Carso. The wolves of the Felini Family or the members of the organization were plentiful.
But legal matters were a different story. The number of people associated with Salmo and his office was limited.
“Is everyone hesitant because of the ‘mafia lawyer’ tag?”
“Uh? No, Godfather. Not at all.”
“Really?”
That was unexpected.
“As you know, Godfather, there’s one fundamental principle for lawyers: not to ask clients how things turned out.”
Salmo added that it’s just how defense lawyers operate.
In short, it doesn’t matter if the person they’re defending committed murder or committed arson; they don’t care.
“Then it should be easy to expand your personnel.”
“Yes. I’m looking for some trustworthy friends.”
After all, incompetent allies can be scarier than competent enemies.
[….]
At that moment, the letters on the newspaper before me became rapidly tangled and then returned to normal. It seemed the status window was trying to say something, but I might have interrupted it.
“Godfather.”
“Yes?”
In the midst of chatting with Salmo, the flow was interrupted due to the status window.
Armo suddenly approached to inform me that Richard Vanella, one of the caporegimes, had called.
“I’ll take it.”
“Yes.”
He gestured toward the phone in the living room. As I stood up and moved toward the phone, Felicita beside me followed suit.
*
A few minutes later, Elena was sitting on the bed in her bedroom, gazing blankly out the window.
Her hair, dyed the same color as her brother’s, was gradually returning to its original black.
“Just a little more, and it’ll be back to its original color.”
“….”
Without any sound of the door opening, an uninvited guest appeared. Despite the intruder’s arrival, Elena remained silent.
“Felicita.”
Of course, she could have told her that Luke liked her black hair one more time, but she chose not to press it.
“You look like you’re wondering why I’m here instead of Luke.”
“If it were you, you’d be thinking the same.”
Felicita nodded in agreement, as though it were obvious. Elena found her unexpected reaction quite frustrating.
“Luke left the mansion just a moment ago. Apparently, the psycho has something to say.”
“Why are you the one telling me that?”
Psycho. Elena assumed she meant Vanella.
If the term psycho wasn’t just a nickname but referred to someone truly deranged, there could be many candidates.
“Because Luke asked me to pass it on.”
“….”
While Elena was at a loss for words, Felicita had moved in beside her on the bed.
Elena didn’t even have the heart to resist as she followed Felicita’s lead.
“It seems like there’s a problem brewing.”
“What kind of problem?”
“Well, I’m not exactly sure, but it seems like you, Solomon, and our families are involved.”
“What?”
Three families involved—Felini, Marinelli, and Solomon, among the Five Families. Elena wondered what on earth could be going on.
Speaking of which, Felicita didn’t seem inclined to leave Elena’s bedroom anytime soon.
“Can you please leave already?”
“No, I don’t want to. It’s obvious Luke will come here when he gets back. So it’s better to wait here.”
“This is ridiculous.”
As Felicita cleverly maneuvered herself, Elena couldn’t help but vent her frustration.
As expected, Felicita swung her long tail like nunchucks to resist Elena, who was trying to pounce on her.
Meanwhile, during the intense standoff between the two wives in one bedroom, I had arrived at a bar located in the central part of the city.
Friendly Lounge.
A bar run by Vanella’s right-hand man, Chucky Grant, and one of the gathering spots for Vanella and his underlings. Of course, much like places like this, it wasn’t just Vanella’s men who were around.
It was also where Chucky Grant trained other members in murder and various activities.
Anyhow, the time was now 6 PM.
As I entered the bar, the walls and furniture radiated a distinctly Tyrrhenian vibe. Vanella was seated at a table deep inside.
“Godfather.”
He rose from his seat quickly even before I approached him.
Though he bore a serious look due to the issue with the Nun Robber Gang, I didn’t hold him responsible due to his assistance in rescuing me and Veronica.
“So? What’s the deal with the three families being involved?”
“I’ll explain that now.”
Vanella said and started talking about one person.
That was Chucky Grant. Apparently, he was a hitman from the Solomon family.
“…I’ve never heard of him.”
“He’s a guy who has had connections with the Solomon family since Big Dom’s days.”
“So he’s also your friend?”
“…Yes, as expected, you are sharp.”
Thus, it seemed that the Felini family and the Solomon family were intertwined. Now, it was time to hear how the Marinelli family was connected.
Vanella mentioned that Grant had recently seen his twin children.
“When you have more family, you need to earn more money.”
“That would be the case.”
“But it seems this guy made a mistake.”
Most likely, that mistake was tied to the Marinelli side. Damn, I hoped it wasn’t too big of a deal.
“I hear he tried to blow up a laundry business run by the Marinelli Family.”
“What?”
Harlem Cleaning Service. That was the name of the laundry business Grant was trying to target.
“Wait, he wouldn’t be trying to do that alone. Who’s behind him?”
“It seems to be a black man who was pushed out by the Marinelli side.”
The laundry business was one of the major endeavors of the Marinelli family.
Lowering service prices, intimidating the drivers of competing companies, stealing customers—these were the strategies that allowed the Marinelli family to gain an upper hand in the laundry industry.
Most likely, one of the blacks who became the victim of those tactics was the culprit.
“I get the picture. Handle it immediately.”
“Yes?”
Vanella reacted as if it was somewhat difficult. Although Grant intended to commit such an act, he hadn’t executed it yet.
“What’s he doing right now?”
“Dance is bringing him here in his car.”
Coincidentally, today was the day Chucky Grant had attempted to blow up the Harlem Cleaning Service building. One could say it was a narrow escape before securing a one-way ticket to the afterlife.
I asked Vanella what he wanted from me.
“I’d like you to spare that friend’s life.”
Vanella said it could develop into a matter among the three families, but since it hadn’t happened yet, he hoped I would let Grant live for his sake.
“….”
Stopping a problem before it erupted was certainly Vanella’s merit.
Since Chucky Grant was a hitman for the Solomon family, Little Dom would also bear some responsibility, but given he was currently embroiled in a war against the Sanchez family, he might not have been aware of this incident.
Moreover, after taking care of the Sanchez family, there were decisions to be made concerning the Solomon family… Maybe painting a picture that would leave us indebted to them wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
“Godfather, is that not possible?”
“Alright. I’ll let it slide for your sake.”
“Thank you!”
Vanella quickly expressed his gratitude to me. It seemed he was quite close with Grant.
Following that, I waited with Vanella for Dance to bring Grant to the Friendly Lounge.
Ding! The doorbell chimed as Dance and a green-skinned goblin entered.
‘That goblin is Chucky Grant.’
He was the guy who had attempted to blow up the laundry business of my wife, or rather, her family.
Meanwhile, the bar manager swiftly flipped the “open” sign to “closed” as soon as the two entered, creating a tense atmosphere.
Dance took a seat at a suitable table while only Grant approached the table where Vanella and I were seated.
There were no other customers, and only the three of us were present.
