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shot off.

The plane made a smooth landing. Michael disembarked quickly. He’d always kept in touch with Gus, his former prison mate and co-worker in crime. Gus had moved to L.A. fifteen years ago to run the West Coast operation for Lucchese.

Gus was there to greet him. They shook hands, walked out of the airport, and got into a black limo with tinted dark windows that was waiting at the kerb-side. ‘Good to see you, Michael,’ Gus said, looking very L.A. in a silk T-shirt worn under a lightweight cream suit.

‘Shame it has to be under these circumstances,’ Michael replied.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Gus said. ‘I done what you asked. Everything’s set.’

‘Those morons,’ Michael said, his eyes filled with an unholy anger. ‘I think they might’ve taken my daughter.’

‘What?’ Gus said, squinting at him.

‘You been following that hostage situation on TV?’

‘You mean the one from the restaurant on Beverly Boulevard?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What about it?’

‘It’s not a hostage situation,’ Michael said grimly. ‘I think they could’ve snatched Madison.’

‘I suppose,’ Sofia said, as she sat on Gianni’s private jet, sipping iced tea, ‘that you’re expecting an explanation about last night.’

‘I’ve forgotten about last night,’ Gianni said.

‘No, really,’ she insisted. ‘I want to explain.’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘Why don’t you want to hear it?’ she said, fidgeting in her seat.

‘I’m not interested. I’m prepared to forget it ever happened.’

‘Oh, that’s great, isn’t it?’ she said sulkily. ‘Make me feel like a piece of shit.’

‘Sofia, if a gentleman gives you an opportunity to forget something that is embarrassing to you, then you should take that opportunity.’

‘Why are you always lecturing me?’ she demanded.

‘I’m not. I’m merely trying to tell you that it is more prudent to listen to good advice.’

‘You’re very smug, Gianni.’

‘I’m sorry you feel that way.’

She leaned back and stretched. ‘I called my mother this morning.’

‘You did?’

‘Yeah–I figured, y’know, she’d like to hear from me. I didn’t tell her about jumping into a swimming pool from eight storeys up!’

‘No, I’m quite sure she wouldn’t have appreciated that.’

‘Anyway, she wants me to come home.’

‘And do you wish to do that?’

‘Well, she kind of, like, said there was an emergency with my father.’

‘Is he sick?’

‘No, she just said it was like, um, a situation.’

‘What kind of situation?’

‘How would I know? My mom’s mysterious. You’d probably fall madly in love with her. She’s a gorgeous blonde.’

‘What makes you imagine I would fall madly in love with a gorgeous blonde?’

‘Men fall in love with Dani all the time,’ Sofia said, stating a fact. ‘She used to be a showgirl in Vegas. She was like a real hot number.’

‘Your mother was?’

‘Yeah. She’s only, like, y’know, fifty-something.’

‘When we get to Rome, you’ll do the audition photos, and after that I’ll arrange for you to fly home. Is that a plan?’

‘Yeah, ’cause if the photos work out and you want me to do the campaign, I can always come back.’

‘Excellent.’

‘So, you’ll buy me a ticket home, and my dad’ll pay you. He’s rich, y’know. Probably as rich as you.’

‘Does he have his own plane?’

‘Oh,’ she said, staring him down, ‘I guess you’re mega rich, huh?’

‘What does your father do?’

‘That’s a good question,’ she answered vaguely. ‘Investments and crap, real estate, shopping centres, things like that.’

‘Is he like Donald Trump?’

She giggled. ‘Donald Trump wishes.’

Purposefully Vincent set off to collect his erstwhile wife, and maybe beat the shit out of Andy Dale. He’d warned him. Hadn’t the cretin got it the first time?

Probably not. Andy Dale was a movie star. The dumbest of the dumb.

He’d dragged Jenna home once tonight, and now he had to do it a second time. This was ridiculous. He didn’t need these kind of headaches.

He’d rescue her, and that was it.

After this little experience, Jenna was on her own. She’d no longer have him to protect her.

Chapter Fifty-five

Michael and Madison: 2001

Michael got the call in the middle of the night. He had been alone in Connecticut, since Stella had moved out to live with her boyfriend. He didn’t care. Things between him and Stella had cooled down long before she left. A divorce was inevitable.

He was trying to get things straight in his own head before he started thinking about the future. Madison wasn’t talking to him: she was still upset about his revelations concerning Stella. He hadn’t called Dani in a while because, quite frankly, he wasn’t sure where he wanted their relationship to go, and once he had told her about Stella leaving, it would definitely be decision time. Sofia was wandering around somewhere in Europe. Vincent was the only one who was doing great. He had a new wife, a successful hotel, and seemed all set.

The call informed him that Vito Giovanni had passed away. Michael was heavy-hearted to hear the news. It didn’t seem possible that Vito was gone, a man who’d always been such a strong presence in his life.

He got into his car, drove into town, and checked into a hotel. The next morning he got up early and went directly to the Giovanni house.

Western greeted him with red, puffy eyes. ‘He was such a sweet old guy,’ she said mournfully. ‘My Vito was real good to me.’

‘He loved you very much,’ Michael assured her.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ she worried, twisting her diamond wedding ring. ‘Who am I supposed to call?’

‘Don’t worry,’ Michael said. ‘I’ll take care of everything.’

And he did.

The day of the funeral, two surprise guests turned up. Mamie and Bone. Almost seventy, Mamie was still trying to look like a teenager. She wore a bright blue suit with a skirt way above her bony knees, her bleached-blonde hair was ratted and brittle, her makeup was caked all over her face, and she was festooned in diamond jewellery.

A scowling Bone had dyed his hair boot-polish black and swooped it across his head to hide his receding hairline. He’d also applied some kind of fake suntan, which gave his face a sickly orange tint. He looked

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