“The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
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“Not to me,” Lucy said. “Maybe to everybody else, but not to me.” She was still too weak
to explain how Sonny had never been anything but gentle with her. He’d never been
angry with her, never even irritable or nervous.
Hagen made all the arrangements for her to move to Las Vegas. A rented apartment
was waiting, he took her to the airport himself and he made her promise that if she ever
felt lonely or if things didn’t go right, she would call him and he would help her in any
way he could.
Before she got on the plane she asked him hesitantly, “Does Sonny’s father know what
you’re doing?”
Hagen smiled, “I’m acting for him as well as myself. He’s old-fashioned in these things
and he would never go against the legal wife of his son. But he feels that you were just a
young girl and Sonny should have known better. And your taking all those pills shook
everybody up.” He didn’t explain how incredible it was to a man like the Don that any
person should try suicide.
Now, after nearly eighteen months in Las Vegas, she was surprised to find herself
almost happy. Some nights she dreamed about Sonny and lying awake before dawn
continued her dream with her own caresses until she could sleep again. She had not
had a man since. But the life in Vegas agreed with her. She went swimming in the hotel
pools, sailed on Lake Mead and drove through the desert on her day off. She became
thinner and this improved her figure. She was still voluptuous but more in the American
than the old Italian style. She worked in the public relations section of the hotel as a
receptionist and had nothing to do with Freddie though when he saw her he would stop
and chat a little. She was surprised at the change in Freddie. He had become a ladies’
man, dressed beautifully, and seemed to have a real flair for running a gambling resort.
He controlled the hotel side, something not usually done by casino owners. With the
long, very hot summer seasons, or perhaps his more active sex life, he too had become
thinner and Hollywood tailoring made him look almost debonair in a deadly sort of way.
It was after six months that Tom Hagen came out to see how she was doing. She had
been receiving a check for six hundred dollars a month, every month, in addition to her
salary. Hagen explained that this money had to be shown as coming from someplace
and asked her to sign complete powers of attorney so that he could channel the money
properly. He also told her that as a matter of form she would be listed as owner of five
“points” in the hotel in which she worked. She would have to go through all the legal
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