“Clap, clap~”
“Rocco, get everyone together!”
Rocco immediately shouted, “Everybody, form up!”
Before long, the whole crew gathered outside.
Once they lined up in two neat rows, Fredo Corleone finally spoke.
“You’ve all worked hard lately.
The reason I keep pushing you this much is simple—I’d rather have you sweating now than bleeding later.
I’m not gonna ride your asses too hard yet, and I’m not kicking anybody out either.”
He paused, then grinned.
“So here’s the deal.
Everybody gets two hundred bucks.
Take the next two days off and enjoy New York a little.
Just don’t start any trouble.
We regroup in two days.”
“Got it, boss!” x20+
“Woooo~~”
The second they heard there was money involved, the mood instantly exploded.
Especially since this wasn’t salary money—it was basically a bonus.
Fredo waved Rocco over and handed him the bag Monica was holding so he could distribute the cash.
The guys who got paid were all smiles and laughter.
Martin laughed.
“Boys, tonight we celebrate properly.”
Carson instantly chimed in, “Damn right.
If you like it, go get it!
Get—”
…
“The hell are you idiots yelling about…”
Across from Philip Tattaglia, Barzini frowned in irritation.
Sollozzo still hadn’t made any progress, and Barzini’s patience was running thin.
Tattaglia spread his hands helplessly.
“Nothing we can do.
Sollozzo says the Corleones want more time.”
Barzini’s expression darkened.
“How much longer?”
“Shouldn’t be too long.
Sounds like Tom Hagen went out to California to handle some business.
They’re probably waiting for him to get back before meeting.”
Barzini clicked his tongue irritably.
“Then tell Sollozzo to push harder.
Heroin makes serious money.
The sooner we move, the sooner we start printing cash.”
Philip Tattaglia nodded and got up to leave.
Barzini took a slow drag from his cigarette, smoke filling the room as his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Clearly, this wasn’t just about selling drugs.
He wanted more than that.
After all, who wants to stay second place forever?
Why couldn’t the Barzini family become the true power behind New York?
To Barzini, both Tattaglia and Sollozzo are nothing more than pieces on the board—frontline pawns he pushes forward while he stays behind the curtain.
Standing by the window with smoke curling around him, Barzini looked out over the bright New York skyline.
…
Sunlight poured through the windows of a restaurant somewhere in New York.
Inside sat Fredo and Monica after parting ways with Luca Brasi earlier.
Back at the countryside house, Fredo had already told Mikey to wrap up the job as quickly as possible.
He also had Rocco prepare everything Monica would need for visiting her aunt’s grave tomorrow before leaving with her.
The two spent the afternoon wandering around New York together.
He bought her some clothes and daily necessities, then ordered several tailored suits for himself too.
His physique had changed enough that most of his old suits no longer fit properly.
The original plan was simple: finish dinner, drop Monica off at the apartment, then head back to the Corleone mansion.
Unfortunately, life rarely sticks to the plan.
In the end, Fredo once again fell helplessly into the soft trap known as Monica Daddario.
He burned with desire.
He couldn’t stop.
He wanted to leave, yet couldn’t pull away.
She teased him, pulled him in, acted coy one second and helpless the next…
The next morning, dawn slowly brightened the horizon.
Fredo got up early for over an hour of morning training and picked up breakfast on the way back.
Meanwhile, far away in California, a movie studio boss woke up to a “gift” from the Corleones—the severed head of his prized racehorse resting in his bed.
An offer from Don Corleone nobody could refuse.
Monica had also just gotten out of bed and started washing up.
By then, Rocco was already downstairs waiting outside the apartment building.
Fredo had arranged everything yesterday.
Together, Fredo and Monica headed to her aunt’s cemetery, with Rocco following behind.
After getting directions from the groundskeeper, they finally found her aunt’s grave.
At the cemetery, Monica cried uncontrollably.
Fredo could only hold her gently and comfort her in a low voice, though it clearly didn’t help much.
Even after leaving the cemetery, her mood remained heavy.
At noon, the two barely ate a few bites before Fredo brought her back to the apartment to rest.
Sometimes when people are hurting, sleep is the only thing that helps.
He stayed beside her until she quietly drifted off to sleep.
Only then did Fredo leave a note behind and step out of the apartment.
By then, the afternoon sun had already started tilting westward.
Rocco drove him to a boxing gym afterward.
Daily training couldn’t stop.
Fredo still wasn’t strong enough to start acting reckless yet.
Better to keep his head down and grinding safely for now.
Yesterday’s sparring session already proved something important—his reaction speed had become terrifyingly fast.
Against firearms from this era, if he saw the shot coming head-on, he could already dodge bullets.
As the sun set, Fredo finally returned to the apartment.
He quietly opened the bedroom door.
Monica still asleep.
Then again, after all the “exercise” last night and the emotional breakdown today, she really was mentally and physically exhausted.
After closing the door softly, Fredo prepared some food for her and even “borrowed” a few ingredients from the neighbors next door.
He left another note saying he’d return tonight and also wrote down the phone number to the Corleone mansion before finally heading home.
Under a sky filled with stars, dinner was already underway at the Corleone mansion.
Don Corleone sat at the center of the table.
Connie wasn’t there, but everyone else chatted about random stories while enjoying dinner together.
After the meal ended, Fredo was called into Don Corleone’s office.
The four men sat down on the couches as Tom began explaining the information he gathered about Sollozzo.
“Sollozzo The Turk.
He’s supposedly very skilled with a knife, though he usually avoids using it unless there’s conflict.
He’s in the narcotics business.
They grow poppies in Turkey and process them in Sicily…”
“In New York, the Tattaglia family provides him protection.”
Don Corleone rested his cheek against his hand and asked calmly, “Does he have a criminal record?”
Tom nodded.
“Twice.
Once in Italy, once here.
He’s a well-known drug trafficker.”
Don Corleone turned toward Sonny.
“Sonny, what do you think?”
Sonny answered bluntly, “There’s huge money in heroin.”
It was obvious Sonny was tempted.
Money moves people’s hearts.
After thinking quietly for a moment, Don Corleone looked toward Tom.
“And you?”
Tom answered directly.
“I support it.
Drugs make more money than anything else.
Even if we refuse, someone else will take the deal.
Maybe every other family already plans to.”
“They’ll use that money to buy politicians and federal agents.
Right now we control unions and casinos, but they’ll control the future.”
“If we don’t take a piece of this, we’ll eventually lose everything.
Maybe not immediately—but within ten years.”
Don Corleone’s face remained expressionless as he fell into silence.
Then he suddenly looked toward Fredo.
“What about you?”
Fredo thought for a few seconds before speaking.
“Putting aside the damage drugs cause, let’s just talk business.”
“Right now, Sollozzo is basically tied to the Tattaglia family.
We’re the head of the Five Families, and our political connections are the strongest in New York.
That’s exactly what they need from us.”
“But what do we actually get?”
“Money.”
“If we agree to this deal, we all know who’s expected to provide muscle.
Probably funding too.
And if anything goes wrong, guess who takes the blame?
Us.”
“The whole thing only makes sense if we get at least seventy or eighty percent of the profits.
Otherwise it’s not worth the trouble.”
“And if you still want the family to eventually go legitimate, Pop… then this becomes an even worse deal.”
“So personally?
I think the risk outweighs the reward.”