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    Summary

    So turned out that old Vito had had a goomar, an orientale woman no less. The Don had met her before the Great War when he’d been trying to sell extra virgin olive oil to the mom-and-pop eateries between Fifth and Sixth Ave in Koreatown. (Clemenza himself had nothing against a nice bowl of tteokbokki, looked like pasta, tasted nothing like it; sprinkle summathat scallion on top, now there was a meal.) Not only that, but they’d had a son (baptized, at least, sia lodato Gesù Cristo). And, what was more, the Don wanted him brought inside. Brought inside for what, exactly, he wouldn’t say: the Don was so tight-lipped it was amazing a cigar could even get in there. And Clemenza was to mentor the boy. Hudson, his name was. “Like the river?” Tessio had asked, bewildered; Clemenza had shrugged. Who the fuck knew. Good river, the Hudson. Had kept many of Clemenza’s bodies hidden over the years.

    --
    Hudson Corleone's rise to capo dei capi, the most powerful crime boss in all of New York, as seen through Peter Clemenza's eyes.  

    Language:
    English
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    Chapters:
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