Sandro picks that moment to walk through the door, two cups of coffee in hand. My gaze latches onto the driver. The kid’s got no family. He’s in his early twenties. And he owes Nero and me for pulling him out of the street racing scene where he would have crashed and broken his neck sooner or later.
I’ll send Sandro with Nero.
He’ll keep Nero from doing something stupid like coming back here as soon as things quiet down.
“Grab two of Garzolo’s men,” I say into the phone. “Sandro is going with Nero.”
“Sandro the driver?”
“Yeah.”
Sandro and Nero exchange a what-the-fuck look.
“All right,” Giorgio says. “Ras and I will grab the bodies and bring them to you. I’ll get a DNA sample from one of them, run it through as soon as we get back to Italy, and swap with Nero’s record,” Giorgio says. “That way, if anyone runs anything through the system, they’ll get the confirmation they’re looking for.”
I nod to myself. This is going to work. “We need to move quickly. Can you leave right now?”
“Yes,” Ras says. “Damiano will stay here to keep an eye on the women. If we all leave, they’ll get suspicious. How far are you from where we buried Garzolo’s men?”
“About forty-five minutes.” I rattle off the address we’re at now.
“We’ll be there in about two hours. Be ready with a few tanks of gasoline.”
It won’t take much to burn this place down, but we need to make sure the bodies are unrecognizable. “Will do.”
“Rafaele.” It’s Giorgio again.
“Yeah?”
“No one but us can know about this,” Giorgio says. “Not even the women. The more people who know, the bigger the risk. Nero and Sandro can never come back.”
I swallow. “I know.” The rest of the world must think I killed my consigliere. They must believe it. I hang up and turn to Nero and Sandro.
“Rafe, what the fuck are you planning?” Nero growls.
“You’re going to disappear. Both of you.”
Nero narrows his eyes. “What does that mean?”
I bring him and Sandro up to speed, and when I finish, Nero’s glowering at me.
“I’d rather die like a consigliere than be sent away to some shithole where I’m a nobody.”
“You won’t be a nobody to Sandro.”
My driver blows out a breath. Unlike Nero, he doesn’t argue. “Never thought retirement would be in the cards for me this early. I’ll need to find some hobbies,” he says.
“You’ll need to find a job. The two of you will need to blend in wherever you end up.”
“Sandro, shut up,” Nero growls. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“You’d rather die than get a demotion?” I ask.
“It’s not a demotion. You’re sending me into fucking exile.”
“Yeah, well, I think that’s a lot better than the pit of hell you were about to land in.”
I see a flash of amusement in his eyes before he reins it in. “You’re a fucking asshole. I can’t believe this is what I get for the decade I’ve given you.”
I place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m doing this to keep you alive. I’m your don, and this is an order.”
He grinds his jaw.
“We don’t have time for negotiations. This is happening. Sandro, we’re going back to my house to pick up documents for you and Nero. Then we have to get some gas.”
“Got it, boss. I’m ready when you are.”
Nero spreads his arms open. “And what am I supposed to do?”
“Stay put and think about your nice new life.”
He shakes his head. “I saw an old bottle of bourbon in the kitchen. Maybe I’ll drink myself into a stupor before you come back.”
“Just don’t do anything stupid,” I tell him, already halfway out the door.
When we get back to the house two hours later, Ras and Giorgio are there with Garzolo’s dead guys. They’re lying on the floor and still covered in a lot of dirt.
Nero crouches beside the larger one, eyeing him skeptically. “So this is supposed to be me?”
Giorgio nods. “He’s about the same height and has a similar bone structure.”
“I think the other guy looks more like Sandro than this one looks like me.”
“He’ll do. Even if they suspect something, the DNA test will put their suspicions to rest.” Giorgio glances out the window. “Sun will rise soon, so we should get moving.”