Emilio nodded and stood up. “I have been in this business now many years. My father was in this business of ours. Patrizio wronged Alonzo, it is true, and he should never have betrayed our alliances that way. He was a man with little regard for others. His soldiers are without guidance and his businesses left in chaos. I believe I can provide that guidance quickly as I was privy to quite a few of Patrizio’s dealings.” He sat down.

“Ulisse?” Mario prompted.

Ulisse nodded. “I will cast my vote for Emilio.”

“Elijah, you have another candidate in mind?” Mario said.

Elijah stood. He made an imposing figure. He was far younger than Emilio and looked as tough as nails. He’d been born into the life and he’d worked his way up. His territory was international. “Patrizio Amodeo harmed more than one man. Mitya Amurov is the man his hit squad shot.”

There was instant silence. The name Amurov was known throughout the world as one of the most brutal and powerful names in the business. “Mitya is the son of Lazar Amurov, although he is no longer affiliated with his father’s businesses. He was nearly killed. He grew up in this business of ours. He would come in under the alliance here with Alonzo, Joshua, Fredo, Emilio and Ulisse.”

“No. No.” Emilio jumped to his feet. “He’s Russian. We can’t get in bed with the Russian mob. They are never satisfied with their territories. They always seek more. Always. No, this man cannot possibly join us.”

“Emilio.” Mario’s voice held warning. “The man sitting across from you, the one you know as Alonzo Massi, is in fact Russian. He is Fyodor Amurov, son of the late Patva Amurov. Fyodor joined Antonio’s soldiers many years ago, and Antonio thought it best that he become Italian.”

That was the story Elijah had sold to the other bosses and they believed him. They weren’t all Italian American. Two were just plain American. It made sense to them that Antonio would want to keep the origins of his soldier, a valued enforcer, from the others, especially that he was Russian. They had a loose alliance with the bratya, but they didn’t necessarily want them in their ranks. Now one was a boss and another was put before them as a potential boss.

“No.” Emilio shook his head again. “Absolutely not. These men operate separately from the organization. They don’t recognize one collective group or head. Mario, listen to me. I have had dealings with them and they . . .”

Mario lifted his head. “Dealings with them? In what capacity? You said nothing of dealing with the Russians.”

There was a sudden silence. Emilio subsided, settling himself at the table with great dignity. Alonzo could see he was very careful not to look at Ulisse, and the other man stared down at the table with a small frown on his face.