Page 26 of The Gangster King
Even though the air conditioning is working its ass off, it’s not making up for the heat outside. Our New York summer has been humid and hot.
“It’s city hall, not a destination wedding.” Braxton burps, excuses himself, then does it again.
Mack chuckles.
“Anyway, Gianna is out with the girls choosing dresses, and I’ve got a suit. She’s doing all the rest. It’s keeping her distracted.”
Mack and I nod.
We know what he means. I might not trust her, but I know what it’s like to lose a parent. She’s grieving Frank Baldassare. He might have been a cruel gangster, but he was her dad.
“She wants to ring her mom.” He shakes his head and leans against the kitchen bench. “Wants her at the wedding. I fucking hate this for her.”
“You’ll hate it more if you have to go to her funeral and not your wedding on Friday,” Mack says. “I grew up with the mafia, trust me.”
Braxton nods and pushes away from the bench, moving to one of the armchairs.
The furniture in the Dark Kings headquarters is expensive as fuck but looks like a typical guy’s garage. Rugged and somewhere you can put your feet up. We have a pool table and a room next door where all the vehicles are parked.
And of course, there’re a few locked cupboards with weapons and shit.
“Yeah, well, I could also be hearing that she’s being married off to fucking Leo Baldoni.” Braxton growls, leaning forward on his knees. “You think that’s where Dante is?”
“Fuck no.” Mack shakes his head emphatically.
We both stare at him in question.
“Carlos Baldoni will look to move in on the Baldassare territories now Frank is hanging out with his buddies in the south.” Mack clarifies by slicing a finger over his throat.
Right.
In hell with all the other gangsters.
I want to snicker, but it’s probably not appropriate. After all, the guy is Braxton’s deceased father-in-law.
“I dunno, it sounds like the Baldassare’s and Baldoni’s are close—as far as crime families go. Where the hell else could he be hiding for this long?” Braxton asks.
I kick my feet up on my desk and lean back in my chair.
It’s a good question.
And the crazy thing is, he doesn’t need to be in hiding.
“It’s not like the feds are looking for him. Surely he’s worked that out by now.”
They couldn’t get a search warrant for Dante Baldassare. The evidence Braxton gathered only incriminated his father and the warehouse which was busted.
Agent Scott, a friend of mine, pushed hard, but the judge told him to go away and come back when we had something more.
Which we don’t have.
Braxton only spent a few days undercover compared to the six years Decker and Nathan did. But it still takes a toll on the human psyche, and it was an enormous risk to his life.
I know he’s disappointed.
Especially after what he saw.
“At least I got Amy out,” he says, referring to his cousin who’d been taken from the streets and was days away from being shipped out of the United States into sex slavery.