The polished obsidian tile floors with veins of gold shimmered in the dim light. Deep blue velvet drapes, embroidered with gold trident designs softened the rough stone walls. And soft leather chairs arranged in a triangle around a central table carved from driftwood and marble were placed throughout the room.
The place was packed but not so packed that it was hard to navigate. Men and women, surrounded by the aroma of expensive cigars, sipped liquor and wine served by topless waitresses and bare-chested waiters in black, leather, assless chaps.
Reaching one of the large blue velvet drapes adorning the walls, the man pulled it back, revealing a private entrance. We stepped inside a long hallway, more modernized than the main area.
The heavy velvet drape closed behind us, shutting out the noise of the main room. The clean lines of smooth concrete walls tinted a cool gray with a faint matte finish stretched in front of us at least ten to twenty feet. Recessed LED strips ran along the baseboards and ceilings, casting a soft amber glow that lit the path for us.
A matte black door with no handle or visible lock was at the end of the tunnel flush with the surface. A single trident symbol etched in brushed brass, glowed from it like it had been branded into the metal.
“This is some batman shit,” Finley mumbled.
I glared at him over my shoulder. “Now’s not the time to be fucking fangirling over the enemy, asshole.”
He just shrugged. “It’s fucking cool, though.”
When we reached the door, the man leaned forward. A retina scanner, no bigger than a nickel encased in a subtle red halo, was embedded at the base of the trident’s central prong that glowed when activated.
The trident symbol pulsed with a soft light, and a mechanical click broke the silence of the corridor. The door made a low whoosh sound, like pressurized air escaping a vault. And the door didn’t swing open, it slid sideways into the wall.
“Yeah, this is some batman shit,” Finley said, causing our escort to chuckle.
The man stepped to the side, motioning us forward. “Gentlemen.”
We walked in, then the door closed behind us. A long, matte black boardroom table that looked like it was carved from volcanic rock dominated the space. Around it sat twelve steel and black leather chairs, each facing the center.
Behind the table, on the far wall made of raw gray stone a massive, blackened brass trident was mounted. To the right, a single floor-to-ceiling window framed in matte steel stretched the length of the entire room giving a view of the sea. Waves crashed against jagged rocks below. Even though the glass wassoundproof, you could feel the violence of the water in your bones.
This entire set up as well as this sit-down was to enforce to the Puglisi’s and more importantly to me that Vasilas and the Drakos Syndicate were in control of this situation. However, I hated to break the news to them, no one controlled me. Not even my brothers.
Lorenzo and Dante were already at one end of the table when we arrived, while Vasilas, with his brother Stavros, and that motherfucker Dorian, sat at the other. The way they looked at me didn’t faze me as I walked to my seat next to Lorenzo, while Finley positioned himself by the wall, close to Lorenzo’s two guards and Dante’s guard.
Could I have been on time? Sure. But I didn’t move on anyone’s time but my own. I wanted to make sure the entire Drakos family knew they couldn’t order me to do shit. I was here because I wanted to be here and to show a united force with Lorenzo. He was the don after all. Fuck all the rest of them.
“Thank you for coming to this meeting,” Vasilas said once I took my seat. “I’m going to get straight to the point.”
“That would be appreciated,” Lorenzo said.
“As you all know, my sister-in-law and Dorian’s wife, Seraphina Drakos is missing.”
From what I knew about Vasilas, he didn’t mince words. When he spoke, it was deliberate and final. Every time I’d seen him, which wasn’t often, he wore tailored black suits. No tie. No flash. Just clean lines and quiet authority. He was like an apex predator in our world, but he didn’t put any fear into me.
No one did.
“And what does that have to do with the Puglisi’s?” Lorenzo asked. “We were only here for a family gathering and on our way home we got this invitation.”
Dorian jumped to his feet, pointing at me. “That motherfucker took my wife!”
The sight of his outrage filled me with such a deep sense of satisfaction, especially after what he did to Seraphina. But the only fucked up thing was I couldn’t let it show. I couldn’t gloat then they would know I had her.
Vasilas’s hand landed on his arm, and Dorian sat back in his chair, sulking like a chastised child.
“The Puglisi’s had no part in Seraphina’s abduction,” Lorenzo said. “If it was an abduction that is.”
“And what makes you think it wasn’t?” Vasilas asked, with his brow arched and his hands steepled.
I couldn’t tell if he knew what his brother did to Seraphina and just turned a blind eye to it, or if he was in the dark.
“From my conversation with Phoenix, she saw bruises on Seraphina,” Lorenzo said.
