Eating pizza at Petrov’s with Elie Archambault was the most relaxed she could ever get and she was extremely happy that she could have this little time to pretend her life was ordinary. She was extremely grateful they had a place to go just to be ‘normal’ when she never felt as if she could truly relax anywhere else. The booth in the shadows managed to hide her from most of the other patrons in the restaurant which was why this particular table was always held in reserve for the Ferraro family. Elie seemed to make her laugh and they wanted Emme happy. Emme was a favorite of everyone in the Ferraro territory and she’d seemed far too sad lately. Everyone hoped there would be an announcement very soon of an engagement between Emmanuelle and Elie. Tonight, only the youngest Ferraro had slipped into the pizzeria through the side door, her bodyguards and Elie Archambault with her. They always insisted on paying and they tipped his waitresses and waiters more than fairly.
They’d never asked him to do so, but then they’d helped him out of more than one problem and he liked their business. It was always empty for them, even at his busiest times. They knew the business owners by name and often were seen patronizing the local deli or pizzeria.īenito kept a booth just for their family and a smaller table set aside for their bodyguards. They owned banks and hotels, race cars and nightclubs, and they ran all sorts of other businesses, but they could be counted on to take care of the small problems in their territory. Stefano Ferraro was head of the family and he ruled with an iron fist. It was said one could go to them with a problem and that problem would mysteriously go away. There were whispers and rumors about the family and had been for years. The Pizzeria was right in the heart of Ferraro territory, a large section of businesses and homes that were owned, rented, or leased and protected by the Ferraro family. Takeout was a brisk business and that was always a wait as well.
It didn’t seem to matter what night of the week it was, getting a table was always difficult and weekends, it was nearly impossible. Those who frequented the Pizzeria and stood in line, sometimes for an hour just to get in, considered it the best pizza in Chicago-and that was saying a lot. Petrov’s Pizzeria was owned and operated by Benito Petrov, a great bear of a man, and his son, Tito.
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