An Offer You Can’t Refuse
Mob Justice book 1
Sal Bianchi
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
2. Jase
3. Nick
4. Nick
5. Nick
6. Nick
7. Jase
8. Bette
9. Nick
10. Jase
11. Nick
12. Jase
13. Nick
14. Jase
15. Nick
16. Nick
17. Nick
18. Jase
19. Nick
20. Jase
21. Nick
22. Nick
23. Nick
24. Jase
25. Nick
26. Bette
27. Nick
28. Nick
29. Nick
30. Nick
31. Nick
32. Jase
33. Nick
34. Jase
35. Nick
36. Nick
37. Jase
38. Nick
39. Bette
40. Nick
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Prologue
I stopped to catch my breath as I crossed the street. In my haste to get here, I’d walked a little too quickly, and now I was huffing for breath beneath the unforgiving Miami sun. It was summer, the season of tourists, and though I’d once called this city my home, I was certain I didn’t look any different from any of the other bumbling tourists wandering around, gawking at the sights and trying to sample as much as they could in whatever time they had here.
I smiled as I made it to my destination and looked up at the building in front of me. It had been several years since I’d been here, and the place had changed so much that I barely recognized it. Italian bars were unique in that the majority of them stayed open for twenty-four hours a day. While the sun was still out, they operated as cafes serving coffee and snacks. Then at night, the patrons would pull out their cigars and begin to drink in earnest.
That much hadn’t changed. It had been completely remodeled and refurbished, and now it only functioned as a fancy Italian cafe that catered to tourists who were drawn to its old-fashioned, kitschy vibe. During the night, it apparently transformed into a swanky music club where people could drink while listening to live musicians.
I stepped inside and nearly gasped as I took a look around. A lot of it was different, but there were a few touches here and there that were exactly the same as I remembered, like the rustic Italian paintings still mounted on the wall. I could remember climbing up the frames like a ladder as a kid, and I smiled sadly at the memory.
I took a seat at the bar and closed my eyes as another flood of memories washed over me. I could remember a lifetime of conversations, arguments, and all-out fights that had all occurred within the walls of this place. I ran my hand over the grainy wooden bar top. It looked exactly the same too, and I wondered if my initials were still carved under the rim at the other end.
“Good morning!” A young woman with bright blue hair greeted me cheerfully. “Can I get you a menu?”
“That would be lovely.” I smiled at her. She reached beneath the bar and handed me a long plastic menu.
“Let me know whenever you’re ready.” She smiled again before moving on to speak to another customer.
I couldn’t stop myself from glancing around as I perused the menu, trying to spot what was different and what was the same. Part of me was a little disappointed I hadn’t been able to bring my wife with me, but she’d had her heart set on having a spa day back at the hotel today. I’d never been into that stuff, so I’d decided to use the opportunity to come to visit my old stomping grounds.
“Seriously, dude,” I heard a young man whisper excitedly to my left. He was sitting with his back to the bar and chatting with two of his friends. “I heard this place used to be a mafia den. Like, they would have meetings right here about who to kill and stuff.”
“Man, that’s a load of crap,” one of the friends scoffed. “That’s just an urban legend.”
I chuckled as I listened to the three of them argue. They had no idea how close to the truth they were.
“No, I’ve heard about that too,” the other friend chimed in. “I heard at school that a long time ago, these two brothers, like, went to war with each other for control of the mafia. Like, they both wanted to be the boss. The older brother Alexander was the boss, but then the younger brother Nick decided he wanted to be in charge, so they started duking it out.”
“Alessandro,” I said aloud before I could even think about it. I was so surprised it took me a moment to even realize I was the one who had spoken.
“What?” The kid sitting next to me asked.
“The older brother’s name wasn’t Alexander,” I clarified. “It was Alessandro.”
A beat of silence passed between us before one of the boys laughed. “You’re messing with us, man. Right?”
“No, wait,” the first boy gasped as he stared at me. “I know you! Your picture’s on the wall!”
“Why what is where?” I asked, alarmed by what he had just said.
The boy jumped out of his seat and ran to a table on the other side of the bar. I watched in shock as she climbed onto the table and took down one of the framed photos there.
“Julian!” The girl from the bar yelled. “Get off the table!”
“Sorry, Diane,” the boy called as he raced back over to where I was sitting and shoved the photo into my face. “This is you, right?”
My eyes widened in shock as I took in the photo. It was me, standing beside my older brother.
“You used to own this place, right?” Julian asked excitedly. “You’re Nick DiFiore!”
I pursed my lips as I heard that name. I hadn’t liked it then, and I didn’t particularly like it now. My immediate inclination was to say no, but the kid was staring at me with stars in his eyes, and I couldn’t bring myself to kill his enthusiasm.
“Yeah, I am,” I said with a laugh.
“Is it true then?” Julian asked. “Did you really fight your brother for control of the mafia?”
“Nah, I don’t buy it.” The skeptical friend grinned. “He doesn’t look that much like the guy in the picture, dude. He’s messing
