King of Chatham, page 9
part #2 of Kings of the Castle Series
He grabbed a fourth cannoli when Giacomo snatched the pastry from his hand, biting over half of it, then bellowed around the food in his mouth, “Tell your Mamma about this arranged, forced marriage stuff.”
Reno’s pressure boiled. Apparently, Papà didn’t understand how sensitive Zuri’s situation was or else he wouldn’t have blabbed with such carelessness. The fewer people who knew, the better. Although Reno trusted his family, he didn’t want anything to slip out in regular conversation with the wrong person.
“What was that, amore?” Emma asked, wiping her hands on a cloth napkin.
“Papà mumbled something about an arranged marriage,” Sofia repeated, locking a steady gaze on Reno.
Reno shot Giacomo a glance accompanied by a frown. “That was private.”
“What’s he talking about?” Vicente teased, snatching up the last cannoli. “Is some unlucky girl being forced to marry the prodigal son?”
Reno kicked his younger brother under the table.
“Ouch.”
“Some African woman’s at the shelter and is in danger from her big bad father who sold her like a whore,” Giacomo dismissed Reno’s concern with the wave of a hand. “I still don’t see how this is your problem.”
“Papà,” Reno shouted, outraged at his father’s comment and that he still didn’t get the fact he’d betrayed a confidence. Now, he may be forced to move Zuri––– yet again.
“You’ve always had a weakness for them black girls.”
Reno banged his fist on the table, causing the nearest wine glass to tip over. Sofia squeezed his thigh, and Vicente glared at Papà. The tension in the room was picante spicy, but Giacomo failed to notice.
“Who was that girl that died––– Evonee–––, Imani.” Giacomo’s arms flailed. “It was something with an eee at the end.”
“Ehhh,” Emma slammed her hand against the table, snatched a spoon, and threw it in her husband’s direction. “That’s enough!”
“Her name was Ebony Stanton, and she was my friend,” Reno roared. “Why are you so damn insensitive?”
“Watch your tone,” Giacomo cautioned, eyes narrowing to slits.
“Reno, your phone’s vibrating,” Sofia alerted, tapping his shoulder.
The pulsating sensation hadn’t registered, probably since his nerves were shaking at his core. By the time Reno reached behind his back and plucked the phone from his back pocket, the vibration had ceased. He checked the missed call and saw it was from Vikkas, but before he could redial the number, the phone vibrated a second time.
“Whoever that is can wait,” Giacomo barked, his face turning a bright shade of pink. “We’re in the middle of lunch for crying out loud.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me right now, Papà.” Reno pushed back the chair with such force that it tipped over. “Scusami, Mamma.”
Reno hadn’t cleared the threshold into the hallway before Emma started ripping Giacomo a new one. He deserved every ounce of Mamma’s wrath. Betraying a confidence was a huge disgrace in the DeLuca family. His father was the one to lay down that rule. The fact that he would break it because Zuri was black and brought Ebony to mind made Reno see red. Walking several feet away, Reno slid the icon across the screen to answer Vikkas’ second call.
“Hey, Is everything good with Papa K?”
“He’s doing alright. Twenty-four hours out of surgery, and he’s already bossing folks around.”
“That sounds about right.” Reno smiled and propped against the wall.
“What’s all that commotion in the background?”
“Lunch with my family.” Reno sighed, shoving a hand in his pocket, grateful that he wasn’t within striking distance of his father. “You couldn’t have called at a better time. I need to get out of here before I say something to that man I can’t take back.”
“We’re all at the hospital with my dad,” Vikkas replied. “I’m taking the guys to The Castle for a tour after our visit.”
“Vikkas, I’m not even sure I can do what Khalil asked or even if I want to at this point.”
“You don’t have to make a decision today. I know it’s a huge undertaking but come with us anyway.”
The tones of voices coming from the dining room became shrewder and angrier by the second.
Reno tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “I’m on my way.”
He ended the call and made his way down the hall with a purpose. The dissension that erupted was too much to handle. It would be a long time before he’d stepped foot inside this house again when Giacomo was present. What he had done was an affront on so many levels. The majority of the women housed on the DeLuca property were Black. Would he have a problem with them, too?
“Wait up,” Vicente yelled, jogging down the hall with Sofia’s heels clicking close behind. “Papà was out of line. You good?”
“Yeah,” he replied, glancing toward the front door. “I’m good for getting the hell up out of here.”
“I’m sorry he brought up Ebony the way he did,” Vicente said, placing a hand on Reno’s shoulder.
“We know how much you cared about her,” Sofia added in a soft tone, embracing Reno. “Papà wants what’s best for us, but he can be a real asshole sometimes.”
“That’s the understatement of the century.”
The siblings shared a knowing glance and a quiet laugh.
“Mariano,” Emma’s voice called from a distance. “Mariano, baby. Thank goodness you’re still here,” she said rushing down the hall, stopping a few inches in front of him, and grabbing both sides of his face. “Ignore your father. He’s an idiot. You do whatever you can to help that young lady, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am. I love you, Mamma.” Reno wrapped his fingers around Emma’s hands, removing them from his face and holding them to his chest. “I have to go.”
“Me too,” Sofia added, smoothing the collar on her crisp white shirt. “I have to get back to the clinic.” Sofia bumped her hip against Reno’s. “See you later.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Reno replied.
“Ehhh. Don’t be a stranger, now,” Emma said, casting an evil eye on him. “I don’t care about all that mess with your Papà. I’d better see you at the next gathering. If not, you’ll have me to deal with.”
Reno nodded and kissed her cheek. “Yes, Mamma.”
CHAPTER 14
Reno walked into Khalil’s hospital room. He was greeted with a warm welcome from his Macro brothers––– a stark difference from twenty-four hours earlier.
“Glad you could make it,” Khalil said with a warm smile that contradicted the pain he must be feeling.
“Me too.”
Reno slid through the men until he was standing alongside Khalil’s bed. He leaned in and hugged his mentor, being careful not to apply too much pressure. Besides the bags resting beneath Khalil’s eyes, he looked good. The hospital was the last place to get rest with the nurses barging in every twenty minutes, but Reno would take this version of Khalil over yesterday’s any day of the week.
“Have you thought about my offer?”
“I’m still weighing the pros and cons,” Reno said, forgetting how direct Khalil could be. In school, this was a tactic used to engage the students in healthy debates.
“Well, don’t take too long,” Khalil shot back. “Every day that passes, another injustice happens at The Castle. That place was part of my life’s work. I sacrificed so much to bring it into existence.”
Reno took in Khalil’s words. He was honored to be considered, yet, confused on how the Macro brothers could make a difference in overturning the underhanded Castle affairs, especially when the members in question were politically and globally connected.
“You see the state I’m in–––, this was no accident. Someone wanted me out of the way, and with the failed assassination attempt, things are going to be more dangerous than ever.”
“Don’t’ worry, Dad. I’m sure everyone will do what’s right,” Vikkas added, glancing at each of the men. “You focus on your recovery and let us do the rest.”
A slight corner of Khalil’s lip turned upward.
“Good afternoon.” The nurse entered the room through the sea of men. “Every time I check on Mr. Germaine, there’s an extra set of bodies in here,” she teased, approaching Khalil. “You’ve been quiet and respectful, so I let it slide, but the shift changes in fifteen minutes. The next nurse may not be so lenient.”
“I appreciate you letting my boys stay, Maggie,” Khalil said with a smile that reached his eyes.
“I have to change your bandages, Mr. Germaine. It’ll take ten minutes or so. Everyone’s going to have to step out. I need the room to be as sterile as possible for less risk of infection. This is probably a good time to say your goodbyes.”
“It’s fine, Dad. We’re about to head to The Castle anyway.” Vikkas gave Khalil’s leg a reassuring pat.
“See you later, Papa K,” Reno said, giving him some dap and chuckling when Khalil returned the gesture.
Daron, Jai, Grant, Kaleb, Dro, Shaz, and Dwayne all followed suit, and then they filed out of the room under Maggie’s watchful stare.
* * *
Arriving at The Castle, Reno had a flashback of the day Khalil was shot.
Wilmette Police were crawling all over the place like a crime scene off of Chicago PD, questioning why he was on the property grounds. One officer even had a hand over his service weapon as if Reno were a threat or worse––– the gunman. Had Vikkas not come from behind the yellow caution tape and rushed into the parking lot when he did, Reno might be in the hospital bed next to Khalil or in the morgue.
The beautiful estate had lost much of its luster since the shooting. The eighteen-hole golf course, the horse stables, the tennis courts, and the lake were all reminders of a time Reno took for granted. Would things had been different if he wasn’t so distant and all about work? Would Khalil never had been shot if he and the others read the letters that were sent and acted on them?
“Hey, man. You good?” Kaleb snapped his long, tapered fingers in Reno’s face.
Reno blinked until he was able to focus. Everyone had gotten out of their cars and were walking toward the entrance.
“Yeah, man.” Reno killed the engine and climbed out of his Porsche.
“I know it’s weird being here after everything that happened,” Kaleb soothed, falling in step beside him. “Imagine how I feel being the first person on the scene.”
“We hadn’t talked about that,” Reno whispered, not fully understanding what Kaleb meant. “You said you were on your way to Chicago when you called about Khalil.”
“Technically, I was,” Kaleb replied. “I had made it in from Detroit early. I was going to surprise you, but I had time to spare, so I drove out here to Wilmette to see The Castle. I hadn’t been here in ages,” Kaleb explained as they took their time to catch up with the others. “I heard the gunshots, and I saw a man flee through the woods. I immediately called the police, then went to see if anyone was hurt or needed help. That’s when I saw Khalil laying in an expanding pool of blood and Vikkas with a graze wound to his arm.”
Reno halted his movements and glared at Kaleb. “Damn, KV. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I’m not even supposed to be back in Illinois.”
“Why not?”
“We’ll discuss that later,” Kaleb countered. “I’m the one who called the police. I offered to stay with them until help arrived.”
“Wait a minute.” Reno put a hand out to keep Kaleb in place. “Vikkas knew you were here?”
“He’s the one who insisted that I leave before the police came. How else would I know that he wanted you to meet him at The Castle?”
Reno thought that over for a moment. What Kaleb had shared had to remain a secret. If the others knew, they’d feel some kind of way.
“So, why was Vikkas acting the way he was at the hospital?” Reno asked, halting in his tracks.
“I don’t know.” Kaleb shrugged, stopping beside Reno on their journey to the front entrance. “If I hadn’t arrived when I did, Khalil may not be alive.”
“Come on you two,” Vikkas shouted, waving them forward.
They entered the grand foyer of The Castle. Breathtaking would be the word to describe the entrance best. Reno felt like he stepped off the canvas and into a 3-D version of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel painting. He marveled at the vaulted Cathedral ceilings with gold crown molding, encompassed two grand staircases lined with red velvet carpeting down the middle with gold-post lamps on each side. Rich. Regal. Royal.
Reno’s gaze lowered to the not-so-immaculate red carpet on the other side of the threshold. The outline of the darker bloodstain pattern was etched in the fibers.
“Don’t worry about that,” Vikkas said, walking over to Reno. “I just got the green light to rip it up. Forensics got everything they need.”
Vikkas escorted the men throughout The Castle. Every room was spectacular. The pool looked more like a river, with an expansive fire pit, and rock waterfall. The kitchen was large with dark wood cabinets and professional-grade stainless steel appliances. The bed, bath, and entertainment rooms were exquisite with original fixtures mixed with a modern flair. The décor was a surprising blend of English, French, India, and African artifacts that worked well together despite the distinct differences.
“What’s behind this large door?” Daron asked, examining the heavy copper hinges.
“I don’t know,” Vikkas muttered in a low voice. “And that’s the problem. There are several rooms that I don’t have access to in my own damn home.”
“That needs to be rectified sooner than later,” Reno said to no one in particular.
Vikkas ended the tour at the circular state-of-the-art conference room. “This is the place where the big decisions are made. If–––” He paused and inhaled. “Once you accept your appointment, you’ll see exactly what I mean.”
Reno slid his palm across the semi-circular wooden table, then walked over to a metal stand in the middle of the table opening and examined the black Polycom sound-station.
“We use that for conference calls,” Vikkas said, pressing a button, and a loud dial tone resonated in the room. He then pressed another button, and a seventy-foot movie screen monitor descended from the ceiling along the wall. “That’s for the international face-to-face meetings with our partners in China, India, Switzerland, and Europe, just to name a few.”
“You know I like this high-tech stuff,” Daron beamed, checking out the control panel.
“Vikkas,” a brawny middle-aged man with a full salt and pepper beard, tanned skin, and a thick accent spoke, eyeing everyone in the room. “Sorry to hear about Khalil. Who are your friends?” he asked, walking over and pushing the button to rescind the screen.
Reno didn’t miss the shade for one second, and by the expressions on the other guy’s faces, they hadn’t either.
“They’re my high school classmates my father once mentored,” Vikkas answered slowly. “They were concerned about him as well.”
“And you picked the conference room to have a reunion?” the man said, his expression repulsive. “There are plenty of spare rooms that aren’t being used at the moment.”
“I’m sorry, did you need something?” Vikkas snapped, folding his hands in front of him. “Last I checked, I had more right to be here than you do.”
Frowning, the man gave each of them a dirty-look, mumbling something under his breath, then vacated the room.
The Macro brothers gathered in a tight huddle around Vikkas.
“Something is definitely amiss,” Grant said in a hushed tone.
“Agreed,” Shaz added, glancing toward the door.
“This is your home,” Reno commented. “He doesn’t have a right to question who you bring in and what you show them.”
“Unless he has something to hide,” Daron countered, lifting an index finger. “Which brings me to something I’ve wanted to discuss with you guys.”
“What’s up?” Kaleb inquired.
“Remember, I’ve developed tracking tattoos for each of us,” Daron explained. “It’s a tatt of a gold crown with the name of the neighborhood that each of us would be King over in the center of it. If we find ourselves in a tight spot and need help, just press the name and the GPS will activate, alerting all of us.”
“Ingenious, Daron,” Vikkas said. “No one would suspect a tattoo as a tracking device.”
“I think that’s a great idea, especially with us venturing into the unknown,” Dwayne countered. “We don’t know what these guys are capable of.”
