Chapter 15: Falcone

Nico's POV

I left her a note on the pillow because I'd promised never to lie to her again.

It said: Newark. Your father. I'll call tonight.

I didn't say why. Telling her why would have been a different kind of lie, the kind where she comes with me.

The gate guard at the Marchetti house had known me for six years.

He looked at my face, and at the cheap bag over my shoulder, and let me through without a word.

Carmine was in the den.

He sat behind the desk with the lamp on and the black seal in front of him, and he didn't get up.

"Falcone," he said. "You've got some nerve."

"I came to quit, Mr. Marchetti."

"You quit in front of a hall of parents. I remember."

"I quit a job. This time I'm quitting the Family."

He folded his hands.

The den smelled the way it always had, of cigar and leather and the lemon oil Rosalia put on the desk.

I had stood on that carpet at eighteen while he told me where to drive.

"I'm not here for you," I said. "I'm here for the boss. If he wants a name for Elizabeth, he can have mine."

"You'd confess to the boss."

"I drove the car. That's true, and I'll say it to his face if it keeps Livia and the girl out of it."

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