“All of you seem to be sorry about it except the traitor who actually did it.”
He nods slowly. “After your grandfather’s death, I had to show mercy to many of your people. My goal was stability. But New York is as stable as it will ever be, I think. So I’ll revisit Scaglietti’s position with us in due course.”
“My grandfather didn’tdie. He wasmurdered. Byyou.”
He ignores that. “How are you feeling?”
What the hell is going on in this man’s head? He’s starting to remind me of Damiano that first night after the auction, so concerned with my health. Making sure I was fed before he locked a collar around my neck. Making sure I was warm before he chained me to a bed.
“I feel like I just got pumped full of drugs and puked my guts out.” I lift up my chin. “Since you ask.”
“But not hazy? Muddled?”
“I am in full possession of all my faculties. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Yes.” D’Amato gives a small smile. “We’ve never met, Mr. Clemenza. But I’ve heard a few things about you. They say you’re clever. Are you clever?”
I say nothing.
“I hope you are,” he says after a moment. “Because I want to help you. And a clever man would accept my help.”
Now I stand. My legs are unsteady, the drug still lingering in my system, but I get to my feet with the help of the chair and hold onto it, because I am not going to let this man tower over me. “I don’t want your help.”
He sighs. “I know you don’t, Cal. Can I call you Cal?” He waits for my response, but I don’t give him one. “I know you think I’m your enemy. But I assure you, I am not.”
“You killed my grandfather.”
“You keep saying that as if it has any relevance,” he says, a touch impatiently. “Your grandfather was no saint, Cal. Surely you know that.”
“I know exactly who my grandfather was. And the point stands: you murdered him. Are you going to murder me, too?”
He looks at me, at my hand clutching hard onto the metal chair, at my teeth clenching against the nausea still rolling through me, at my attempt to stand as straight as I can. And I hate him for the pity that passes through his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you. As I said, I want to help you.”
“Why?”
“Because I know what you’ve been through.”
I let out a laugh. It’s only slightly hysterical. “I very much doubt that.”
“I know someone has been killing all the remaining Clemenzas with a direct line to your grandfather. I know you’ve been living rough. And,” D’Amato finishes gently, “I know about the Obelisk.” There’s that pity in his eyes again.
“How?” I manage to croak out. “How do you know…all that?”
“Do you really think I don’t know what’s going on in my own city? It’s my responsibility to know.”
“What a heavy cross to bear,” I say, retreating behind sarcasm once more. It’s the only shelter I have left.
“Indeed,” D’Amato says seriously. “And while I will not apologize for your grandfather’s death, Cal, I do apologize for what has happened to you. You should never have been reduced to this. It was not my intention. Whoever is hunting your people down, I plan to find them and stop them. You have my word.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. “Your word?” And then I do something I saw my grandfather do many times over, something I found disgusting and peasant-like, but here and now, I understand why he used to do it.
I spit at D’Amato’s feet.
“That’s what I think of your word,” I tell him.
There’s no pity in his eyes now as he looks at me. “Nevertheless,” he says coolly. “I am giving it.” He tilts his head slightly, looking at me closely once more. “I also know about Damiano Orsini, and his vendetta against your Family. So if he’s the one who’s been?—”
“It’s not him,” I say quickly. “He’s got nothing to do with it.”