Page 103 of The Hidden Heir

“The second order of business is the kidnapping of Valentina Petrucci and her son,” Romano adds, turning the entire room’s focus on me. “You have our support, Luca. Whatever you need, you name it.”

“I need my wife and nephew back, for starters,” I reply, looking directly at Mancuso.

“Again with the accusations,” the old man hisses, ready to start a fight.

His demeanor tells me he’s enjoying this. He’s itching for a brawl, anything physical, to take the focus away from the fact that we all, in some measure, suspect he’s behind the kidnapping. But Caroline cuts in, placing a hand on her father’s shoulder.

“I’m sending you a few of our men to assist with the interrogations,” she says, focused entirely on me while the old man softens under her touch. “Like Joseph expressed, you have our full support. We’ll find them, Luca. I’m sure of it.”

“What’s the third order of business?” I ask Romano.

I’m nowhere near patient enough to receive the sympathies of people who may or may not have had a hand in my wife’s kidnapping. Mental snapshots of a terrified Valentina and crying Michael keep haunting me, making it increasingly more difficult for me to focus. I’m hanging by a thread here, but Solomon made a good point. Losing my leadership over the Camorra’s council will cost me and my family our future.

“A vote of no confidence has been put forward,” Romano says. “Against you.”

“Who put it forward?”

Mauro raises his hands, pairing the gesture with a wry smile. “I did, and for good reason. You’ve got some serious holes in your organization, Luca. It cost the rest of us too much. The Gamberetti massacre proved it.”

“Considering the number of hits attempted against my businesses and my own family, Mauro, you’re the last person who should have anything to say against my fitness for leadership. If anything, you’re the most biased motherfucker in this room. Where are my wife and nephew?” I ask and change the tone of the conversation so fast that most of the room fails to keep up. “Are they at your place or one of your private properties, the ones you have under shell corporations all over the city? Lincoln Park? Mayfair?”

“You’re so full of shit, it’s ridiculous,” Mancuso scoffs.

Caroline gives me a horrified look. I guess I wasn’t supposed to mention the Mayfair property. I should be kinder to her, considering she led me to Valentina last night. Had it not been for Caroline… a lot of things wouldn’t have happened. Thoughts click in the back of my head.

Who did what.

The puzzle pieces are starting to come together.

“The truth is that my leadership has been under attack for a long time,” I say to the Camorra. “While my authority doesn’t resemble that of a king, it does resemble that of a manager, let’s say. And my decisions over the past few years have rarely been in the Mancuso syndicate’s favor,” I add. “But not because I harbor a grudge against this old bastard. It’s because his ineptitude would’ve cost us more if I had approved his little pet projects. We might as well just face it.”

Mancuso shakes his head in vehement dismay.

Romano, however, doesn’t seem moved. “It’s not just about the Gamberetti gala, though,” he tells me. “One of your trucks was hit, which means that at least one of your transport routes is compromised.”

“One of the main routes, I might add,” Freddie Greco quips. “It’s costing all of us a fortune right now, Luca.”

“I’m well aware, and I’m handling it.”

“How are you handling it?”

Jimmy cuts in. “What the hell is wrong with you people? For years, Luca has been nothing but solid and true to his word. He’s fair and just in his deliveries, both in and out of this conference room.”

“Don’t worry about it, Jimmy,” I say, trying to stop him.

“No, no, they need to hear this,” he says, then looks around at the table. “You’ve all seen significant growth in profits over the past couple of years, at least. There are fewer skirmishes in the streets. Even the Russians know to keep their distance from our main trading points. And you’re all being willfully blind or fucking cowards right now if you fail to recognize this for what it is.”

Romano raises an eyebrow. “What is it then?”

“A pathetic attempt at a coup,” Jimmy replies.

“Someone has been systematically sabotaging my operations, and my personal life, as well. It’s insidious, and it isn’t just foul play. It breaks every fucking code of the Camorra,” I say.

“Without concrete evidence, you know you can’t point fingers. We don’t stand for unsubstantiated accusations, Luca. We did that in the ’90s, and it nearly destroyed us. The Feds almost took us all down,” Romano says. “The fact of the matter is you’ve got a leak in your organization, a serious one. And until you fix that, we’re all having a hard time following you into the oncoming storm.”

I give him a hard yet curious look, my blood boiling beneath my calm, composed surface. “What’s that supposed to mean, Joseph? Will you all be voting against me tonight?”

The air thickens, wrought with doubtful glances and hesitation. Mancuso is restless in his seat, waiting for the other shoe to drop. There is only so much I can do in the absence of solid evidence—a rule I’ve heavily enforced over the years myself, and it would make me a glaring hypocrite in front of all of them if I chose to ignore it now.