I enter the great hall, taking in the glitz and glamour that is all my mother’s handiwork. The guy in the flashy white suit is still playing the piano, but thank f**k he switched to a livelier tune. The don and my mother are having a pleasant chat with a few of the city’s higher-ups on the far side of the room, right next to the elaborately decorated Christmas tree. If there were any doubt, the big grin Nuncio is wearing as he stands just to the left of Judge Collins shows how truly he enjoys all the fanfare and other benefits that being at the helm of the Family affords him.
If the plan had gone as it should have, it would be me in his place. Too bad sometimes s**t doesn’t go as intended.
I was raised and have been trained to assume the leadership of Boston Cosa Nostra since I turned tw
