But right now, his focus was on his nephew.

“Marcus,” Vincenzo said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “Look at me.”

Marcus kept his gun pointed at my chest, but his eyes drifted back to his uncle.

“I didn’t kill your father,” Vincenzo said.

“Prove it,” Marcus wept, the rain mixing with his tears.

“I will,” Vincenzo said.

He looked at Romano.

“But first, we are going to let Tony tell you himself.”

Romano laughed, a harsh sound.

“Tony isn’t talking to you, old man,” Romano said.

“He will,” Vincenzo said, his hand slowly reaching into his inner pocket.

“Don’t move!” Romano warned, his finger tightening on the trigger.

Vincenzo didn’t stop.

He pulled out a small, black electronic device.

It wasn’t a gun.

It was a frequency scanner, the screen glowing bright green.

He pressed a button, and a loud burst of static filled the air.

The static resolved into a voice, tiny and tinny, coming from the speaker.

It was Tony’s voice.

“Romano? What is taking so long?” the voice asked.

The sound of the rain seemed to fade as we all listened.