Stand Up Guy

Angelo Martenetti stood outside his West Side music studio, sunlight glinting off the chrome of his Rolex as he flipped through a contract. Vinny, his ever-present bodyguard, loomed nearby like a silent shadow.

Agent Cappelli approached, his badge tucked away but his intentions loud.

“Hey, Cappelli,” Angelo said without looking up. “I think I’m gonna have to put a restraining order out on you.”

Cappelli smirked. “Wouldn’t be the first.”

Angelo finally looked up. “Why do you keep coming around? You know I won’t roll on anyone. Rule number one.”

“You sound like a second grader,” Cappelli replied. “Maybe it’s time to drop the schoolyard shit.”

Angelo’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think I’m gonna change my mind? Your badge doesn’t mean shit. Move on.”

“I know how hard it was for you to get to the top,” Cappelli said. “I know it’s harder to stay there. I want what you have. I can make sure you never lose a cent—but you have to help me.”

Angelo scoffed. “Are you done with your bullshit? I’ve got a contract to finish. My next big rapper’s about to blow.”

“They brought me in from Houston to clean up this city,” Cappelli said. “It’s out of control. Maybe Serge will take me up on the offer.”

Angelo’s voice dropped. “Serge and I came up together. We don’t rat.”

Cappelli stepped back, eyes cold. “You’re not gonna be a big-time producer. You’re gonna fall. See ya around, Angelo.”

Angelo watched him leave, then opened a drawer and pulled out a gun.

Later, Roman Mazzerillo sat in his car outside the studio, staring at the steering wheel. The gun on the passenger seat was empty. He checked the chamber, dropped it, and slipped brass knuckles into his pocket. He exited the car and entered through the back.

Inside, Vinny handed Angelo a wad of cash.

“That’s for the new blonde,” Vinny said. “She wants to be a star.”

“I’ll bet,” Angelo replied. “Make sure she comes by Monday. I’ll try her out.”

Roman stepped into the room. Vinny stood, but Angelo waved him off.

“How the hell did you get in here?” Angelo asked.

“Is that how you speak to an old friend?” Roman replied.

Angelo walked around the desk and hugged him. “Nah, it’s good to see you. Sorry about your mom.”

“They wouldn’t let me out for the funeral,” Roman said. “But look at you. Big shot music guy now.”

“Gotta have ambition,” Angelo said. “I heard you were around. Here—this’ll help you lawyer up.”

He handed Roman the cash Vinny had just given him.

“I’m back now,” Roman said.

“You need to get situated?”

“I’m back.”

Angelo’s face hardened. “You know the rules. Once you’re pinched, you’re out. Especially after Texas. Come on, let me show you the place.”

In the second room, Angelo gestured proudly. “Took me ten years to build this.”

“I heard Tommy was hung by some bed sheets,” Roman said.

“He said some things,” Angelo replied. “About me and Serge. Wanting to take you and your father down.”

“Everyone’s a rat now.”

“Watch yourself.”

“I know you and Serge set me up.”

Angelo froze. “Are you out of your mind? You think you’re some real stand-up guy? Your time, your father’s time—it’s over. You don’t inherit the top spot. You earn it. Guys like me and Serge took over.”

Roman reached into his pocket.

“Everything Serge runs is mine. Everything you run is mine. I want it back.”

“Your family rules were archaic,” Angelo said. “We built something new. I resurrected the West Side. You couldn’t build a music empire like this.”

“F your music,” Roman said. “I’ve been away a long time. My wife left me. My daughter doesn’t know me. You set me up. Got my father killed. You stole my life.”

“Move on, Roman. I’m not gonna ask again.”

“You ate at my mother’s dinner table. We were friends.”

“That time is gone. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Yes, I can.”

Roman lunged. The brass knuckles cracked against Angelo’s jaw. As Angelo fell, Roman grabbed the gun from his waistband. Vinny burst in—Roman fired. Vinny dropped.

Roman stood over Angelo, breathing hard.

“I should’ve had this business clean. You and Serge… You made me sign with the devil.”

He raised the gun and fired.