Omerta

Chapter 70 (Nick's POV)

        When I was personally requested to visit Micky TerraNova at the prison I thought that shit was odd. Yes, I've done business with him, but it's usually me requesting for him to come out whenever I get a private job for him. Things have been ass backwards lately anyways. I knew shit was really serious when I didn't go to the general visiting tables, but a private room, which our pocketed guards arranged for us on the low. In the regular visiting room there are cameras. No audio though. But still this means it's serious. 

When the guard opened the door Mick was already across the table in his beige jumpsuit and combed hair, and maintained build. He stays sharp even in the clink. I give the old man props. He's a Made Man through and through.

I reached across the table for us to shake hands before I sat on the cold metal chair across from him. He wasn't cuffed, though in this room they're supposed to be. 

        "Hey Mick, why am I here?" I asked him right away. "Your ass hasn't even hit the seat, kid," Micky chuckled. He went to prison when I was 18, so he has a habit of calling me 'kid' even though I'm far from it. It's harmless talk, so I don't correct him on it. He's just old school and also stuck in time. When you serve a sentence you usually do get stuck in time, as the world around you continues to grow and change. 

To him, I'm still the scrappy 18 year old with a promise to take his father's seat at the big table. And Gia is still that little 13 year old with innocence in her eyes. That's where he's stuck.

        I wasn't in a suit. I had no business aside from this, but I don't need a fucking suit to sit in a prison. I was in my casual tee and dark jeans as I usually am. I don't need much change when I have something I like. The dark colors suit me. Everything about me is dark. My ink, my clothes, my features. "Let's talk about the Russian," Mickey folded his hands on the table. "What Russian?" I asked for specifications, we're crawling in them nowadays. "You know what Russian, Mikhail Bokarev," he leaned slightly forward. I leaned back in my seat and eyed him. 

"What about him?" I asked. The grin that split across his lips was a wicked one. "Who killed him?" He asked. I sucked my teeth. He dragged me down here for this? Everybody knows that information at this point. "The cartel, Mick," I crossed my arms. "Bullshit," he cut in. It surprised me.

"You know what I heard on the gossip lot," he said sarcastically. These fucking prisons really do know everything though. "That Nico Luciano shot a Russian point blank in the middle of my daughters engagement party," the fucker called me out. "I did," I owned that shit. "I would've done the same thing if Giada told me that scum put even a finger on her. Point blank, just like you," he nodded. Okay then? 

I know there's more to this and I wanted him to cut to the chase. He tapped his finger on the black table top and my eyes watched his movements. "I would react without thinking because I love my Giada," he added. Fucking hell, I see where this is going.

        "Jesus Christ, Mick. Can you spit it out? I have shit to do," I huffed. "No doubt as a boss you needed to put that man in his place, to let it be known that an Italian woman will be respected even married to a Russian. Most men do those dirty dealings in private and let gossip spread about it. You shot him in front of a hundred people without a second thought. Nico, I'll be up front with you. I think you have some feelings for my daughter. I know it in a man's eyes," he leaned forward which unnerved me. My jaw ticked but I otherwise kept my mouth shut. "Your daughter's a good girl. I don't know what fairy tale you're spinning though, Mickey," I denied his claims. 

"You shot Mikhail Bokarev, didn't you?" He asked me outright. I'd been leisurely seated in my chair, but that made me sit the fuck up. 

"Do you know what that type of an accusation would do to our alliance with the fucking Russians? Don't you ever say that shit again," I snapped at him. "Nico, I know you're damn good at what you do. I know you're smarter than most realize too. You know how to stage a murder. I'm never going to utter these words again outside of this room...but man to man, did you kill the Bokarev kid?" He asked me.