Free Sal Gabrini: Just The Way You Are by Mallory Monroe

okay?   I’m talking
everything else.   Like you do.   Your name carries weight, Pop.   If you’ll only put me in charge of some of
your operations I wouldn’t have to hang out in dives like this or sling dope
for a living.   I’m your son.   Why can’t you give me a leg up?”
    “You aren’t
running any operation of mine.”
    “Why not,
Pop?”
    “Why do you
think?”
    Rudy
frowned.   “Because of that one
thing?   That’s old, Pop.   That’s over!   I was only trying to prove a point anyway.”
    “And what
point was that?” Sal asked.
    “That I
could outsmart you.   Only you and Mick
the Tick outsmarted me.   But I wasn’t
going to take it any further than that.”
    “Your ass
had no business taking it that far,” Sal said.   “If you weren’t my son you’d be dead for taking it that far!”   He settled back down.   Then he reached into his suit coat, pulled
out a thick envelope, and tossed it to Rudy. “Pay your debts and stay out of
trouble,” he ordered as he stood up.
    Rudy smiled
when he saw how thick the envelope was.   “Thanks, Pop.”   Then he looked at
Sal.   “And Pop,” he said, “why don’t you
invite me around?”
    “Around
what?”
    “Your
family.   My family.   Why haven’t you
invited me to any family functions?”
    Sal stared
at his son.   “When you prove to me that
you can be depended on, then you’ll earn that right.   Right now I don’t know if you’re for me or
against me.   You aren’t coming anywhere
near my family until I know for sure.”
    Rudy
nodded.   He understood.   And Sal left.
    The
bartender walked to Rudy and leaned over the counter.   “I wish I had a rich old man like Sal Gabrini
who could throw money at me.”
    But a sad,
bitter look appeared in Rudy’s eyes.   “No
you don’t,” he said, grabbed the envelope, and headed back into the backroom.

 
    Nicky “Cass”
Castellano didn’t like waiting.   As first
underboss in the Gabrini crime family, he was accustomed to everybody waiting on
him.   Everybody, that was, except the
boss himself.   And since he was in the
boss’s waiting room, at the Gabrini Corporate Headquarters in Vegas, he knew he
had to wait.
    But he
didn’t like it.   He felt like some
two-bit nobody as he flipped through magazine displays and tried not to display
his anger.   But he was highly
pissed.    Junior executives were coming
and going out of Sal’s office while he had to wait.   And they were so young and full of hope and
promise that Nicky wondered how they would react if they really knew who they
were working for.   Sal Luca was about as
legit as Al Capone.   But he got away with
it.   Year after year after year.   He was now a legitimate businessman with a
multimillion dollar corporation.   While
the rest of them, while people like Nicky, did all of his dirty work.   The ruthless sonafabitch.   Then Nicky angrily tossed the magazine aside.
    It would be
another half hour before Sal’s office door opened and two men and a woman
hurried out.   Then the secretary informed
Nicky that Mr. Gabrini would see him now.   Mister Gabrini, Nicky thought
as he stood and made his way to Sal’s office.   If they only knew.
    Sal was
seated behind his big desk when Nicky walked into his big office.   It was impressive, if Nicky had to say so
himself, but that didn’t help his mood.   He and the families were suffering, scared of their own shadows, while
Sal Luca was living it up in Vegas.
    “What
couldn’t wait?” Sal asked when Nicky made it up to his desk.
    “May I sit
down?” Nicky asked.
    “No,” Sal
said.   “What couldn’t wait?   You know not to bring this shit to my
office.”
    “They iced
Deacon last night,” Nicky said.
    Sal’s jaw
tightened.   As Nicky suspected, he hadn’t
heard.   “Where?”
    “In
Chicago.   Outside his restaurant.   Fifteen shots to the body, boss. They executed
him.”
    Sal
exhaled.   “He was a good man,” he
said.