In the end, Francis never broke. Even after the waterboarding and the Taser, the guy stayed locked tighter than a Swiss vault.
Francis knew the game: as long as he kept his mouth shut about the money, they couldn't kill him. The second he talked, he was dead. His willpower was impressive. They weren't cracking him anytime soon.
"Lawson, what do we do now?"
Once Sofia learned Francis had basically drained the family's ready cash, she started to panic.
The Bonanno family had over five hundred made men, plus hundreds of associates. Keeping that machine running cost serious money every month.
If the cash flow dried up, the fallout would be catastrophic.
At this point the Mafia operated more like a tight corporation with strict rules. Everyone knew what happened when a company ran out of money.
At the very least, Sofia's dream of becoming the real boss would be dead on arrival.
"Sofia, don't worry. I'll fix this."
Her shoulders relaxed the second she heard Lawson's promise. Right now she believed he could do anything. Whatever he said, she took as gospel.
"Lawson… will you stay tonight?"
She looked up at him with those big, hopeful eyes.
Lawson hesitated. As her bodyguard he should stay close for protection, but he had other moves to make—he couldn't be glued to her 24/7.
Tonight he'd stay. She really did need the security.
Francis had opened a dangerous door—turning the family's power struggle into open season. No telling who might try to copy his play and put a bullet in Sofia.
He needed to get her that professional female bodyguard ASAP. Safer that way.
The night passed quietly.
Lawson held Sofia in his arms until dawn, then slipped out of the master bedroom right as the sky started to lighten.
This time he almost got spotted by an early-rising maid. By the time he reached the guest room, his heart was pounding.
So this is what sneaking around feels like?
Exciting as hell, but Lawson could do without that particular adrenaline rush.
Because of the close call, he couldn't fall back asleep. Remembering he still hadn't bought the new intel, he opened the Payday app.
- $30,000
[Intel 1: Francis Ricci recently transferred all of Old Man Martin Bonanno's gold and cash to St. Martin's Bank.]
[Intel 2: Luca Pastore has located Old Martin Bonanno's remaining blood heir and will return to Los Angeles soon.]
[Intel 3: Antonio Costa is secretly meeting with Frank Castro.]
St. Martin's Bank?
Named after the old man himself?
Francis had actually put the family's gold and cash into a bank. That complicated things.
If he'd done it through legal channels, Lawson would have to get creative.
It was very possible. Francis was a lawyer—he knew exactly how to make other people's money disappear into his own name on paper.
They'd have to investigate St. Martin's Bank first.
Luca Pastore had been gone from LA for over two weeks. Turns out he was hunting down Old Martin's illegitimate son. The guy really was loyal as hell.
They needed to lock down Sofia's power fast. If Luca showed up with the blood heir, Sofia's position would take a massive hit.
She was only the second wife, not even the mother of his children. Blood always trumped marriage in these circles.
And if Luca backed the kid? Game over. Luca's respect inside the family dwarfed Francis's.
As for Antonio meeting Frank Castro, that raised an eyebrow.
Lawson had been studying the Bonanno roster the past couple days. No Frank Castro on it, and the name didn't sound Italian at all.
Was Antonio reaching out to another crew?
Lost in thought, Lawson didn't realize the sun had fully risen.
After breakfast, Black Sonny came looking for him.
"Mr. Lawson, since you're becoming a made man, you need to show your face to the rest of the family. Rafferty will take you around our territory today, make some introductions."
Lawson glanced at Rafferty, who was smiling ear to ear. For some reason the guy looked more like a Don than a soldier.
(Al Pacino energy—the kind of face that could play Michael Corleone.)
"Got it. Give me a minute. I need to update the lady first."
Lawson told Sofia about St. Martin's Bank and asked her to use the family's resources to dig in.
"St. Martin's Bank? Yeah, I remember something. After the Pacific Standard robbery, the old man got paranoid about his assets. He had Francis buy the bank and move the gold and some bonds there."
Sofia's words made Lawson's expression turn strange. He hadn't realized his own heist was the reason Old Martin decided to consolidate everything.
Something felt off. Had someone fed Phil and Dennis that intel on purpose?
He'd ask Alberto later. The guy was way more cooperative than Francis—answered everything straight.
"So Francis orchestrated the whole thing?"
"Yeah. He and the old man were locked in the study talking about it for days. I wasn't paying attention to family business back then, so I don't know the details."
Lawson thought for a second, then laid out the most likely scenario.
"I'm guessing Francis got temporary authorization from Old Martin to move the assets. Once the old man had the stroke and couldn't revoke it, Francis transferred everything into his own name."
"Lawson… can we get it back?"
"Only if Old Martin wakes up and can still sign papers."
"Then I hope he stays in that bed forever!"
Sofia cursed the old man through gritted teeth. Lawson gave her ass a light smack.
"Don't worry. We'll find a way. Sofia, start digging into St. Martin's Bank and exactly how Francis moved the money. I'm heading out with Rafferty."
"Lawson, be careful!"
She pulled him into a deep, breathless kiss.
Lawson could feel how much she was leaning on him now. The woman was falling hard and fast, treating him like her anchor.
"Relax, I'll be fine. But if anything feels off, call me immediately."
"Got it."
Long Beach, South Los Angeles – Later that morning
Long Beach was buzzing during the day. Second-largest city in LA County, seventh in California.
But despite the size, most people living here weren't rich. Nothing like Santa Monica or Beverly Hills.
The population was mostly Black, Mexican, and working-class white—plenty of Irish descendants mixed in.
A mean-looking old man stepped out of a car, followed by several younger guys.
They scanned the street. A few Black guys were lounging around, some smoking.
"Fuck! Goddamn niggers! Middle of the day and they're not working. Should ship all their asses to the cotton fields!"
The blatant racism didn't sit well with the locals. A couple bigger Black guys stood up, looking for trouble.
"You got a death wish, motherfucker?"
The young guys with the old man instantly pulled guns. One handsome kid even grabbed a shotgun from the car.
"You boys looking to eat lead?"
Seeing the firepower, the Black guys backed off.
The old man spat on the ground, face full of contempt.
"See? That's niggers for you—bullies who only pick on the weak. Let's go."
The group headed into an underground bar.
Even though it was daytime, the place was open for "private business." Several customers were already inside.
One man at the bar was about the same age as the mean-looking old man—silver hair, hard face.
The moment the old man saw him, he spread his arms with a big smile.
"Hey, Antonio! Good to see you!"
"Same, Frank."
Antonio stood and they hugged. Then both sat down while the younger guys took seats nearby.
(Frank Castro)
"Antonio, you know why I always smile when I see you?"
Compared to Frank's bright grin, Antonio's smile looked forced. He was clearly in a bad mood.
"Why?"
"Because whenever you come to me, good things happen. How could I not be happy?"
Antonio's smile vanished.
"You mocking me, Frank?"
Frank laughed and clapped Antonio on the shoulder.
"Of course not! You know me—Frank Castro just likes to joke around."
Antonio relaxed a little.
"Frank, I need you to do something for me."
"I knew it! Whenever you call, there's always something juicy. What's the job this time?"
"I need you to send some guys to the Bonanno estate and take out Francis Ricci."
Frank's smile slowly faded, replaced by genuine surprise.
"Francis Ricci? Weren't you two partners?"
Antonio lit a cigar and took a long drag.
"Francis fucked up. His shit got exposed. To make sure he doesn't drag me down with him, I need him gone first."
Frank raised an eyebrow, expression turning strange.
"That's a sad story! How the hell did it go sideways so fast? I thought you two were rolling smooth. It's only been a few days?"
The events at St. Lucy's Church hadn't leaked yet. Francis murdering Little Martin wasn't exactly something the family wanted broadcast, so most made men kept quiet.
A few rumors were floating, but two days wasn't enough for them to spread. The LA underworld still didn't know about the massive shake-up inside the Bonanno family.
Antonio looked at Frank and slowly laid out everything that happened at the church.
Sooner or later Frank would hear it anyway, so no point hiding it.
But when Frank heard about the man in the purple suit and Joker mask, his eyes lit up.
"Purple suit and Joker mask? Fuck! That's the guy who robbed Pacific Standard Bank!"
Antonio looked at him sharply.
"You know him?"
Frank slammed his hand on the table, pissed.
"Yeah! I had a shipment stashed in that bank. Somehow that purple-suit clown found it and cost me over a million dollars! I was so mad I took the head of security, Rupert Lawrence, and dropped him in the Pacific in cement shoes! Billy, what was that security guy's name again?"
The handsome young guy, Billy, answered immediately.
"Rupert Lawrence."
"That's the one!"
"Frank, so you know who the clown is?"
Frank shook his head.
"No. The security guy saw him but didn't get photos. Only description was an Asian kid in his twenties."
"Asian?"
Antonio looked thoughtful. He'd already heard rumors about a good-looking Asian guy suddenly appearing next to Sofia yesterday.
He shook it off and got back to business.
"Frank, about what I asked earlier—"
Frank just smiled at him, not agreeing right away.
"Antonio, let's talk payment first."
"Frank, I already gave you the Caltech area business, didn't I?"
Antonio was clearly annoyed now, his tone sharper.
Frank quickly wrapped an arm around Antonio's shoulders, all friendly again.
"Antonio, you're asking me to hit someone in Malibu, not Long Beach! You know how heavy the security is out there. If it was in Long Beach, I'd do it for free!"
Malibu was prime rich territory—full of billionaires. Even Tony Stark had a mansion there in the movies. Killing someone in Malibu carried way more heat than Lawson's little game with the LAPD.
If the rich donors in Malibu got scared and stopped writing checks to the police department, the cops would come after Frank with everything they had.
Antonio's expression softened a bit after the explanation.
"Frank, I'm a little short on cash right now. I'll pay you later."
"Normally the Castro crew doesn't do credit, but since you're my good friend, I'll take the job."
Antonio finally smiled.
"Frank, when your guys hit, take out Sofia Bonanno too."
"Old Martin's woman? No problem!"
The two old foxes leaned in closer, plotting in low voices while their soldiers watched the door.
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