Carl Genovese was a very bright college graduate, a successful entrepreneur, and an incurable crook who came from a long line of crooks. He thrived on beating the authorities and the thought of doing business legitimately turned his stomach. His grandfather sent him to a Catholic college so that he could earn a degree in management and eventually run the family’s organized crime business but he gave up that opportunity in order to go into business for himself. He finds great success but at a very high price.
“You’re the boss,” Vinnie said as he crossed the garage floor and left the building. Carl watched him leave and opened the drawer again, fascinated by the neat little bags of dope. He’d never tried it himself and would never touch it. He saw what it did to people, how it screwed them up and cost them so much. He drank alcohol socially but was not one to hang out at sports bars like a lot of his friends. If only he was as disciplined about keeping in shape, he thought. Suddenly there was a huge explosion and the back wall of the garage flew apart. The concussion knocked Carl across the room slamming him into the hood of a nineteen eighty three Cadillac. The hood ornament was imbedded in his right thigh.