Russo Blood Debt Chapter 09
The Old Don
Nonno has the second stroke on a Thursday.
This one doesn’t miss.
He goes in around four in the afternoon, conscious enough to grip Dante’s wrist. The cameras in the hospital room are mine — Papa’s people swapped the security contractor on day one. We watch in real time.
“Save — the Family — the heir —” the old Don rasps.
His grip slackens. His hand falls.
He’s gone before the priest gets there.
Dante kneels beside the bed. Doesn’t move for an hour.
Bianca shows up with the baby at six. Pearls again. She’s gotten very good at pearls.
She kneels beside Dante and weeps prettily into a handkerchief.
It’s hard to tell if she’s mourning Nonno or the fact that her last protector in the Russo Family just died.
Probably both.
The funeral is a small one.
You can tell who runs a Family by who shows up at the funeral. When Nonno married my mother-in-law, the Five Families sent Dons. When his son was made, the Genovese sent their consigliere personally. When his other son died last year, the church was full.
This time?
A handful of cousins from Bay Ridge. Two captains who probably wished they hadn’t come. A priest. The widow. The baby.
That’s it.
The other Families have heard the smell of blood in the water.
Nobody comes near the Russos now.
I watch from Tuscany. Papa watches with me. He drinks coffee. I drink coffee. We don’t speak.
Then the wake — same brownstone, same room, this time for Nonno — empties out, and Dante and Bianca are alone with the baby in a carrier on the table.
She tries.
I have to give her credit. She tries.
“Tesoro. I know it’s hard. But the Family has to keep going. The baby is the heir now — he’s all of it. You and me, we have to —”
“You’re moving out.”
“What?”
“Tonight. Pack. Take Marco. Go.”
“Dante —”
“You can keep the apartment. I’ll wire money. Enough for the rest of your life. I’ll set up a trust for the baby. I’ll make sure he never wants for anything. But you and him are out of the brownstone by morning, and I do not want to see your face again.”
Bianca stares at him.
Then her own face cracks and the widow act peels off and what’s underneath is the woman who said I am what’s left of Marco in this same room three weeks ago.
“Are you out of your mind? I’m the mother of the only male Russo. Nonno told you. The bylaws —”
“There’s no Family left to inherit, Bianca.”
She stops.
“What?”
“Did you not look at the news. Did you not look at the bank. In four weeks I’ve lost everything Nonno, my father, and Marco built. Suppliers won’t take my calls. Customs is sitting on three of my containers. Two of my captains turned up in Florida last weekend without asking permission. The Genovese think I crossed them. The Gambinos won’t meet. There is no Family. There is debt. You want to be the mother of the heir to a pile of debt, be my guest.”
“Dante —”
“And while we’re being honest.” His voice goes flat. “You said something at the wake. You said Sera was on her way out. You said we talked about it. After the baby was born. You said I was going to leave her.”
Bianca’s mouth opens. Closes.
“I never said that to you, Bianca. I thought it. God help me, I thought it some nights. But I never said it. So how did you know.”
“Dante, I —”
“How did you know.”
“Tesoro, I —”
“Did Marco tell you. Before he died. Did my brother tell you I was planning to leave my pregnant wife.”
She doesn’t answer.
That’s the answer.
Dante closes his eyes.
“Get out.”
“Dante, please —”
“Get out, Bianca. Take the baby. Take the check. If I see you in this house again, I won’t be responsible.”
She gets up. Slowly. Hateful.
At the door, she turns back. One last shot.
“You’ll regret this.”
“I regret a lot of things. You’re not even in the top three.”
She slams the door.
He sits down in the chair next to the table where Nonno’s casket was.
He puts his head in his hands.
In Tuscany, my father turns to me.
“Cuore. Why does this not feel as good as it should.”
I think about it.
“Because, Papa. He’s not a piece of shit anymore. Three weeks too late.”
Papa puts his hand on mine.
“Do you want to stop.”
“No. I want to finish.”
“Va bene.”
He goes to bed.
I stay up and watch the camera until the room goes dark and Dante is just a shape in the chair.
Then I close the laptop.