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Franky August 1988
“Where’s my ungrateful son this time?” Antonio Bianchi asked Franky.
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Bull. You two have always been attached at the hip.”
Franky didn’t know where Guy was this time, but he’d hedge a guess it was with Gracie. That’s who he’s attached to these days, Franky thought. Franky didn’t say anything to Antonio, though. No point. The old man knew exactly where he was. He may have sounded mean and gruff about it, but underneath he was happy. If the relationship worked out, then it would only strengthen the bond between the two families. Although, Antonio was upset that Guy no longer seemed to take an interest in the business.
Franky tightened his hands on the steering wheel. It was a distraction to keep his hands from wrapping around his best friend’s neck. Guy hadn’t done anything wrong, nothing he could’ve helped anyway. He was just born with good looks, money, and family power. It wasn’t Guy’s fault Franky’s perfect woman had fallen for him. Franky could’ve handled that. He could’ve put up with Gracie following Guy around like a lost puppy dog for a few months. Eventually, she would’ve given up and moved on like the other girls in Guy’s life. Franky could’ve swept in then to hold her while she cried. He could’ve picked up right where he left off on the make-Gracie-fall-in-love-with-Franky-and-marry-him plan. But, no. No, his best friend had to go and fall for her, too!
Traitor!
Franky couldn’t even be upset with Guy. Guy didn’t steal his girl. Guy didn’t even know Franky knew Gracie existed. Guy stealing Gracie from him would’ve almost been easier. Almost. At least Franky could’ve punched him for it.
Franky was spending twenty-four/seven with Antonio. The war was in full swing. The battle lines had been drawn. Costa and Bianchi versus Milano. The first few days had been a bloodbath. Street crews went at each other night and day, trying to make a name for themselves. Milano’s crews fought hard, at first. But, after a few days, they could see the writing on the walls. Made men and street crew members alike tried to jump ship and come on board with either Costa or Bianchi. Both families gave the traitors a place, a job, a home. Temporarily. Everyone involved knew the outcome. You couldn’t turn on one family and expect a long life in another. Once the war ended between the three families and Milano was dead, there would be a bloodbath of another kind as the traitors were wiped out.
“Where we goin’, Boss?” Franky asked. Antonio should’ve been locked away in his hotel until this was over. He should’ve had guards with him nonstop, but Antonio was stubborn. He wasn’t letting anyone lock him away while the battles raged. Since the ambush, Franky had taken to carrying three pieces on him. One gun at the small of his back, one in an ankle holster and one in a shoulder holster. He had also started carrying a knife attached to his arm. With one solid flick of the wrist, the knife would descend into Franky’s hand. Franky had to wear long-sleeved shirts through the heat, but the extra protection was worth it.
“Costa’s.”
“His house?”
“Yes. Nuttin’ to hide now.” True, Franky thought. Milano already knew they were gunning for him. Two of the four of Milano’s inner circle were dead. It was just a matter of time now.
Franky turned into the country club neighborhood. The large houses were set back from the streets with wide lawns separating them. Franky turned into Costa’s driveway and pulled the car around the back. Yes, Milano may have known Costa and Bianchi were working together, but that was no reason to broadcast it by parking in front of the house.
Costa was alone, not even a bodyguard around, standing on the back patio. Franky thought he was being stupid and cocky. In this business, it was always a good idea to make sure someone was watching your back. A few someones would be good now.
The three men made their way to Costa’s study. They stood eyeing one another. Franky didn’t know the purpose of the meeting. Antonio liked to play his cards close to his chest, so he kept his mouth shut and his eyes open.
“Drinks, gentleman?” Both Antonio and Franky declined. Franky would’ve loved whiskey but needed to keep his wits about him in the viper’s den. Costa poured one for himself before officially starting the meeting.
“Milano’s team has dwindled down to one,” Costa said.
“One? Other than him?” At Costa’s nod, Antonio continued. “It’s close, then.”
“Yes. We need to draw our boundaries now. I do not want a feud between us when Milano is gone.” Costa chose a chair in a small seating area. The power move would’ve been to address Antonio across his expansive desk. Choosing the sitting area showed they were friends, not adversaries. Smart, thought Franky. The move caused Antonio to lower his guard a notch but not Franky.
“And this is your show of trust? Being outnumbered by me and Franky?”
Costa looked at ease, even outnumbered as Antonio had pointed out.
“This is a new time, Antonio. I think you can see that as well as I. Milano can’t. It’s time to put away the old days.”
“Worked for me so far.” Antonio sat in the chair next to Costa, but there was nothing relaxed about his stance. He leaned forward on the seat ready to pounce. Costa leaned back in his chair. Antonio could strike before Costa even had a chance to react. That was the impression, anyway. Franky thought different. Costa wasn’t a fool. He had to have a way to defend himself. Franky started scanning the area for any weapons. With Milano’s family crippled, Costa could wipe Antonio out now and be the only one left standing. But, it wouldn’t be the best move. It would leave him open to the New York families to invade the territory.
“Your boy, the young one? He has a fancy for my wife’s cousin.” Costa twirled his whiskey in the glass, holding it up to the light. Antonio didn’t comment. “It would bond us, Antonio. One family.”
“With you at the helm?”
“No. With us, Antonio.”
“Separate but equal? This isn’t the fifties, and there’s only one captain of the ship.”
“I see it differently. We could blaze our own trail. Stop the constant infighting. Keep both our families strong.”
“I have every intention of sticking to our agreement. If you do, too, then what’s the point?” Antonio asked.
“The point is, once word gets out about Milano, one of the New York families will try to move to Vegas. If we don’t prevent it from the start, by combining our forces, we leave room for someone else. You know it. I know it.” With that Costa emptied his glass and slammed it down on the table.
“He’s right.” Franky didn’t mean to speak, but since he had, he took a moment and used it. Both men looked at him. Antonio’s face showed anger. Franky’s place wasn’t to speak. Costa’s face showed interest. Costa waved for Franky to continue. “He’s right, Boss. History shows families don’t stick together for long unless it is mutually beneficial. Gracie and Guy’s affair aside, you have a shot here.”
“Go on. Frank, is it?” Costa stood to refill his glass. He poured two more for Antonio and Franky. Franky didn’t correct him on that he preferred Frank-y.
“Caesar’s Palace is halfway down the Strip. Both of your hotels are on either side. Boss, you take north. Costa, you take south. The rest can be divided as the need arises. Most of the business is on the Strip anyway.”
“Who’s in charge?” Antonio wanted to know.
“Both of you. You run your own crews. Make it clear the men work together or don’t work for either of you.”
“Who settles disputes?” Antonio asked again. Antonio didn’t like the thought of sharing the limelight with anyone.
“Both of you. Bring in a third unbiased party when you can’t reach an agreement. But, I’ve been with you awhile, Boss. You two may have different styles, but you see the world through the same glasses.”
Antonio relaxed his posture completely for the first time tonight. He sat back in his chair, his hands locked under his chin, deep in thought. Costa was the first to break the silence.
“What do you see for the future, Frank?” Franky liked the sound of the grown-up name. He puffed out his chest as he thought for a moment before continuing. He wanted to project knowledge, authority. This was his biggest moment yet. His biggest chance to prove himself.
“It’s time to change our image. Blend in more. Time to ditch the look of the old world and the style. We should be more active in the community. Do charitable work. On the outside, project pillars of the community.”
“Look like pansies?” Antonio asked.
“No, Boss. Blend in. Our family reputations will speak for us when problems arise. We’ve already proven our strength. Especially when Milano is gone.”
“Clean up our acts, so to speak, Frank?” Costa said.
“Yes. Give the authorities a reason to look to the underbelly while we are amongst them the whole time. Less muscle. More finesse,” Franky said.
“Antonio? Your thoughts?” Costa asked.
“I need to think on this.”
“Let’s. Let’s all think on this. I’d like the three of us to meet again. We’ll come together and plan.” Costa said the three of us. Franky tried to hide his smile.
“Gentlemen, let me walk you out.” The three men finished their drinks in one pull each before heading to the back of the house. Costa opened the door and stepped out with Franky and Antonio.
As they shook hands next to Bianchi’s car, two men emerged from the trees behind the house. Milano and his last man standing both held guns on the group.