The television was still broadcasting Jimmy Hoffa's interview. The former chairman, unable to find support elsewhere, had resorted to using the media to attack his rival, Frank Fitzsimmons.
Now, to be fair, this tactic wasn't completely useless—but dragging the Mafia into it? That was a terrible idea. He had just stepped on a landmine in a room full of people who were the landmines.
The group argued about it for quite a while, voices overlapping, opinions clashing, until Anthony Salerno finally made the call—Frank would go warn Hoffa and shut him up.
Among everyone present, Frank had the closest relationship with Hoffa.
Luca had no objections.
Since none of these bosses had shown any intent to kill yet, there was no need for him to rush things. He could simply continue preparing in the shadows.
Frank, on the other hand, had no choice but to agree. Offending anyone in that room wasn't an option, and since this involved his old friend, he decided he'd deliver a serious warning this time—no more reckless behavior.
After wrapping up the Hoffa issue, the conversation drifted into other business matters, filled with casual banter and the usual back-and-forth.
It was during this time that Mathilda and Frank's daughter, Peggy, arrived at the club.
Mathilda walked straight toward Luca without hesitation, while Peggy froze at the sight of a room full of suited power players and didn't dare step any closer.
Luca understood immediately. He stood up, took Mathilda's hand, and led her away, giving Frank a look on the way out—a silent signal to follow.
The two girls headed toward the restaurant next door.
Meanwhile, Luca led Frank into the hallway.
"Hoffa's comments on TV—his slander against Frank Fitzsimmons—that affects me directly," Luca said, his voice low but firm. "I'm the union branch president. If he's attacking Fitz, he's attacking me. Frank, you're a branch president too—you should understand how serious this is."
Frank softened his tone.
"He said the wrong things. He was reckless, spoke without thinking. I'm sorry… Dove. I'll warn him. I'll make sure he understands your position."
"He already understands my position," Luca replied, staring straight at him. "Wasn't I clear enough at the last meeting? You were there. You saw my sincerity. I was trying to mediate. As long as he stepped down, we were willing to meet all his conditions."
Frank gave a bitter smile.
It was because he understood Luca's "sincerity" that he felt even more helpless.
In his ideal scenario, Hoffa and Frank Fitzsimmons would have competed fairly. Out of respect for old ties, the Mafia wouldn't have interfered.
But now?
After that interview?
Frank couldn't even imagine the consequences if the Mafia truly got involved.
"Dove… give me some time. I need to talk to him," Frank said, clearly anxious. If he didn't act fast, Hoffa might really be finished—and as a friend, he couldn't just stand by and watch that happen.
Luca noticed the struggle in Frank's eyes.
He understood it perfectly.
Frank only had two real friends in his life—Russell Bufalino and Jimmy Hoffa.
And now those two stood on opposite sides.
Life and death.
The man who had already been scarred by war was being torn apart all over again.
It was like a bullet he fired decades ago had finally come back to hit him.
Luca's tone softened.
"Frank… go spend time with your daughter. I hope you—and Hoffa—can both live out your lives in peace. Hoffa says people like us are selfish, that we don't know how to step back. But this time, we did step back—for everyone's sake."
He paused, then continued,
"He has his principles. I respect that. But this time… he's the one who needs to step back. He can't sacrifice all of us just to chase his ideals. When he said those things on TV, did he think about the friendships we've built?"
After saying that, Luca took a card out of his pocket and handed it over.
"This is a lifetime membership card for the club. No matter how this ends, our friendship doesn't change. Peggy treats me like family, and I care about her a lot. Frank… Hoffa might not care about the people around him—but I know you do."
Frank took the card, a little stunned.
"Thank you, Dove. I value our friendship too."
He understood.
This wasn't just a membership card.
It was goodwill.
Just like the first time he met Russell—when his truck broke down and a Mafia boss personally stepped in to help him fix it. No agenda. Just goodwill.
Frank tightened his grip on the thin card.
It suddenly felt heavy.
Like responsibility.
This time… he wanted to protect something.
Hopefully, Hoffa would listen.
[Bond: Friends]
---
When leaving the club, Frank personally drove Russell Bufalino home, as he always did.
"What did Luca say to you?" Russell asked, leaning back in the passenger seat.
Frank gave a brief summary.
After listening, Russell said calmly, "He talked to me too—about the gasoline business. He wants to expand into Pennsylvania with me. You've worked with him for months now. What do you think?"
Frank gave an objective account of their cooperation.
Then, thinking of the card in his pocket, he added,
"He's generous. The truck drivers working under him—they've all made money."
Russell nodded.
"That matches what I've heard. Angelo also made quite a bit working with him."
Angelo Bruno—the head of the Philadelphia family, known as the "The Docile Don," a nickname not far off from Carlo Gambino himself.
When Luca expanded into Philadelphia, working with Angelo had been inevitable.
It was mutually beneficial.
Russell and Angelo had known each other for years.
Back then, Frank nearly got himself killed after messing up one of Angelo's operations, and it was Russell who stepped in to save him.
Otherwise, Frank would've been dead long ago.
Russell also had ties with Joseph Colombo. He supported the Italian-American Civil Rights League and had even attended its rally—the one where Colombo was shot.
Now the Colombo family was in decline.
The Bonanno family was in chaos.
The Genovese family remained stable.
The Gambino family still led—but heavily depended on Gambino himself.
At present, the most active and aggressive family in New York…
Are the Lucchese family.
And within it—
Luca Greco stood out the most.
Russell saw the bigger picture clearly.
Men who tried to be both businessmen and gangsters often ended up with uncertain futures.
The Bufalino family was small. With Colombo gone, Russell needed a new ally.
Angelo was a friend—but not powerful enough.
And once Gambino died?
Philadelphia would turn into a storm.
Angelo's position depended heavily on Gambino.
Without that support, cracks would show.
Sooner or later.
Russell couldn't fully see through the chaos yet.
Every family seemed to be hiding a crisis.
The entire East Coast was shifting.
Compared to that—
Hoffa's situation was almost trivial.
In this kind of world…
Who would rise?
Who would fall?
Russell closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again.
"Frank, what do you think of Luca? Besides his generosity… sitting next to him just now, I felt something unusual. He speaks calmly, but you can't ignore him. Hard to believe he's only in his early twenties."
Frank glanced at him, then back at the road.
"You want my honest opinion?"
"I like him. Maybe because he treats my daughter well. Maybe because he treats those drivers well. Or maybe because… I really like his club."
He chuckled slightly.
"Best place I've ever been."
Russell thought for a few seconds, then smiled.
"The environment he created is impressive. I'm looking forward to seeing him again."
They needed to understand him better.
Before deciding if he could become a long-term ally.
---
Detroit.
Frank, acting as a mediator, once again approached Hoffa.
"Don't get mad about what I said earlier. I was with them—you know who—and they said…"
He carefully repeated what the bosses had told him, toning down the harsher parts to make it easier to accept.
Hoffa just sneered.
"Who said it?"
"That's not important."
"Russell?"
Frank shook his head.
"…Luca again?"
"It was Tony," Frank said, his expression turning serious as he emphasized the full name of Anthony Salerno.
That name carried weight.
"Jimmy, I'm trying to help you. You need to understand—this is for your own good. You need to take this seriously."
Hoffa waved it off.
"Oh, Frank… don't even try. I'm not shutting up for anyone. That's who I am. That's my personality. And it's not changing."
Frank's eyes flickered.
"I know exactly who you are. But can't you just step back this once? Why push things this far?"
"Frank, that's my union," Hoffa snapped. "They took what's mine, and now they want me to stay quiet? Not happening."
Frank sighed.
There was nothing else he could say.
---
Pittston.
A small city about 200 kilometers west of New York.
This was Russell Bufalino's territory.
On the surface, he ran a curtain shop.
Behind the scenes?
Deals, negotiations, power.
From police to judges, Russell knew exactly how much each one cost.
Just like Luca in Little Italy—
Russell was the local "fixer."
People came to him for everything.
After their meeting, Russell invited Luca to a well-known Italian restaurant.
The topic?
Gasoline business.
Having already heard Frank's evaluation, Russell quickly agreed to cooperate.
Then the discussion expanded.
Atlantic City.
Casinos.
Legal gambling.
Angelo Bruno was looking for partners.
But Luca sensed something off.
This wasn't just business.
It was a setup.
Behind Angelo stood Carlo Gambino.
Meanwhile, the Genovese family also had their eyes on Atlantic City.
Two New York giants.
One Philadelphia family caught in between.
That situation?
Anything but stable.
Sometimes, neutrality wasn't an option.
You had to pick a side.
And it looked like both the Bufalino family and the Bruno family…
Were searching for new allies.
Luca narrowed his eyes slightly.
Looks like—
He needed to think carefully about how to handle his "new ally."
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