Once we’re all tooled up, we stash our cars in the underground garage and load into two separate vans: Nario and Durante in one, me and the Albino and Ubert in another. That way, if by some freak accident one of us is hit, we still have leadership in place to handle the Family.
The Albino lays his head against the van and closes his eyes, smiling. I can’t help but smile, too. It feels good to be rolling out on a job. It reminds me of the old days, before I was the don, before I had the weight of the Family resting on my shoulders and the Elephant took my father from me.
The Albino starts to sing softly in Italian. I look around the van as his voice bounces off the metal and give the men looks to let them know that, whatever happens tonight, they’re all warriors. They’re all Family.
The
