The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
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no the man for you anymore.” 
There was a car waiting for her with two men up front. They drove her all the way to her 
hotel in New York never saying a word. Neither did Kay. She was trying to get used to 
the fact that the young man she had loved was a coldblooded murderer. And that she 
had been told by the most unimpeachable source: his mother. 
Chapter 16
Carlo Rizzi was punk sore at the world. Once married into the Corleone Family, he’d 
been shunted aside with a small bookmaker’s business on the Upper East Side of 
Manhattan. He’d counted on one of the houses in the mall on Long Beach, he knew the 
Don could move retainer families out when he pleased and he had been sure it would 
happen and he would be on the inside of everything. But the Don wasn’t treating him 
right. The “Great Don,” he thought with scorn. An old Moustache Pete who’d been 
caught out on the street by gunmen like any dumb small-time hood. He hoped the old 
bastard croaked. Sonny had been his friend once and if Sonny became the head of the 
Family maybe he’d get a break, get on the inside. 
He watched his wife pour his coffee. Christ, what a mess she turned out to be. Five 
months of marriage and she was already spreading, besides blowing up. Real guinea 
broads all these Italians in the East. 
He reached out and felt Connie’s soft spreading buttocks. She smiled at him and he said 
contemptuously, “You got more ham than a hog.” It pleased him to see the hurt look on 
her face, the tears springing into her eyes. She might be a daughter of the Great Don 
but she was his wife, she was his property now and he could treat her as he pleased. It 
made him feel powerful that one of the Corleones was his doormat. 
He had started her off just right. She had tried to keep that purse full of money presents 
for herself and he had given her a nice black eye and taken the money from her. Never 
told her what he’d done with it, either. That might have really caused some trouble. Even 
now he felt just the slightest twinge of remorse. Christ, he’d blown nearly fifteen grand 
on the track and show girl bimbos. 
He could feel Connie watching his back and so he flexed his muscles as he reached for 
the plate of sweet buns on the other side of the table. He’d just polished off ham and 
eggs but he was a big man and needed a big breakfast. He was pleased with the picture 
he knew he presented to his wife. Not the usual greasy dark guinzo husband but 
crew-cut blond, huge golden-haired forearms and broad shoulders and thin waist. And 

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