stay there until after the
baby comes.”
Gemma looked
at him. “Leave you? You’re telling me to leave you?”
“It’ll give
you some normalcy during your pregnancy. It’ll keep you away from the stress.”
Gemma shook
her head and put her hands on either side of Sal’s handsome, but worrisome,
face. “No way,” she said. “Where you go, I go. If you go down, I go down. If you go up, I go up. We’re a team, Sal. No bomb, no chick name Rita, nobody’s
breaking up our team.”
Sal’s heart
soared. It was exactly what he needed to
hear. He smiled and pulled her
closer. “And when the baby comes?” he
asked.
“She or he
will be on the team too.” Gemma frowned. “Being a Gabrini is a great thing. But it comes at a great price. Our child will have to pay that price too.”
They leaned
forehead to forehead against each other. Both were teary-eyed at the thought of their child involved in the
matters they sometimes were involved in. “But we’re prepare our child, Sal,” Gemma said. “She’ll be ready.”
“Or he,” Sal
said, and Gemma smiled.
“Or he,” she
said, and Sal smiled.
And they
just stood there, holding each other and leaned against each other. The world outside was still chaotic. A wrecker was taking away Rita’s rental car,
and Jay was just returning to the front gate after discovering that Gemma had
already left her office. But Sal and
Gemma were one. And were completely in
tune, not with the world outside, but with each other.
But Sal had
to confess. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to go to Chicago, babe,” he said.
Gemma looked
at him. “Because of what happened
today?”
“Among other
problems,” he said. “Yeah.”
Gemma didn’t
like it. But she knew it came with the
territory. “Okay,” she said. “Just be safe.”
“And I know
you will. I’m going to triple the men
keeping an eye on you. You’re be just
fine. It’s too much going on. It might all be unrelated, but I don’t
believe in coincidences.”
Gemma didn’t
like all of the extra security she would have to endure, but she trusted Sal’s
instincts. “Neither do I,” she said, and
they hugged each other again.
CHAPTER TEN
The limousine stopped in the back of the
Chicago restaurant. A wall of men, all
heavily armed, made their way to the limo as one of the men opened the back
passenger door. Sal Gabrini, their boss,
stepped out. He buttoned his double-breasted
suit coat and took his time, even as the men closed in on him, blanketing him,
and began to escort him inside the building. But these weren’t confident men to Sal. These men behaved as if they’d been spooked. They were looking around with the kind of
nervous hypervigilance that forced Sal to come to town in the first place. Crew chiefs were being killed. Nobody knew the enemy. Chicago was on edge. Sal had to calm nerves or risk full blown
panic.
As Sal
entered the closed restaurant, the assembled underbosses all stood up. Nicky Castellano was there too, and as Sal’s
number one, chaired the meeting. Sal sat
at the head of the table and they all sat down.
Angelo
Scorsese spoke first. As the oldest
underboss, he commanded one of Sal’s largest crews. Sal called him The Barometer. If he was in panic mode, they were in trouble.
“We don’t
mind healthy competition, boss,” he said to Sal. His voice was gravelly, almost hoarse, as if
he was one cigarette away from emphysema. But he was a respected voice. “We’ll fight to the death to keep our territories, but we don’t mind that
fight. But this fight here, boss? This shadow company trying to spook us like
this? We don’t know what this is! And then they ice Deacon. He was in line to take over for me. He was a powerful sonafabitch and they had to
know that. But
baby comes.”
Gemma looked
at him. “Leave you? You’re telling me to leave you?”
“It’ll give
you some normalcy during your pregnancy. It’ll keep you away from the stress.”
Gemma shook
her head and put her hands on either side of Sal’s handsome, but worrisome,
face. “No way,” she said. “Where you go, I go. If you go down, I go down. If you go up, I go up. We’re a team, Sal. No bomb, no chick name Rita, nobody’s
breaking up our team.”
Sal’s heart
soared. It was exactly what he needed to
hear. He smiled and pulled her
closer. “And when the baby comes?” he
asked.
“She or he
will be on the team too.” Gemma frowned. “Being a Gabrini is a great thing. But it comes at a great price. Our child will have to pay that price too.”
They leaned
forehead to forehead against each other. Both were teary-eyed at the thought of their child involved in the
matters they sometimes were involved in. “But we’re prepare our child, Sal,” Gemma said. “She’ll be ready.”
“Or he,” Sal
said, and Gemma smiled.
“Or he,” she
said, and Sal smiled.
And they
just stood there, holding each other and leaned against each other. The world outside was still chaotic. A wrecker was taking away Rita’s rental car,
and Jay was just returning to the front gate after discovering that Gemma had
already left her office. But Sal and
Gemma were one. And were completely in
tune, not with the world outside, but with each other.
But Sal had
to confess. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to go to Chicago, babe,” he said.
Gemma looked
at him. “Because of what happened
today?”
“Among other
problems,” he said. “Yeah.”
Gemma didn’t
like it. But she knew it came with the
territory. “Okay,” she said. “Just be safe.”
“And I know
you will. I’m going to triple the men
keeping an eye on you. You’re be just
fine. It’s too much going on. It might all be unrelated, but I don’t
believe in coincidences.”
Gemma didn’t
like all of the extra security she would have to endure, but she trusted Sal’s
instincts. “Neither do I,” she said, and
they hugged each other again.
CHAPTER TEN
The limousine stopped in the back of the
Chicago restaurant. A wall of men, all
heavily armed, made their way to the limo as one of the men opened the back
passenger door. Sal Gabrini, their boss,
stepped out. He buttoned his double-breasted
suit coat and took his time, even as the men closed in on him, blanketing him,
and began to escort him inside the building. But these weren’t confident men to Sal. These men behaved as if they’d been spooked. They were looking around with the kind of
nervous hypervigilance that forced Sal to come to town in the first place. Crew chiefs were being killed. Nobody knew the enemy. Chicago was on edge. Sal had to calm nerves or risk full blown
panic.
As Sal
entered the closed restaurant, the assembled underbosses all stood up. Nicky Castellano was there too, and as Sal’s
number one, chaired the meeting. Sal sat
at the head of the table and they all sat down.
Angelo
Scorsese spoke first. As the oldest
underboss, he commanded one of Sal’s largest crews. Sal called him The Barometer. If he was in panic mode, they were in trouble.
“We don’t
mind healthy competition, boss,” he said to Sal. His voice was gravelly, almost hoarse, as if
he was one cigarette away from emphysema. But he was a respected voice. “We’ll fight to the death to keep our territories, but we don’t mind that
fight. But this fight here, boss? This shadow company trying to spook us like
this? We don’t know what this is! And then they ice Deacon. He was in line to take over for me. He was a powerful sonafabitch and they had to
know that. But
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