He keeps looking at me, like he's trying to recall someone's name. "I know you from somewhere." He frowns.
I decide to let him off the hook. "Probably from the clip sent to you showing Carlos'demise."
He does a double-take. “That was you?” he asks, full of incredulity. "How the hell did you get in with the Russians?”
I let the edge of a smile show. “Different route than you. Same results.”
He huffs, not quite a laugh. “You seem to like side doors.”
“Any bad feelings that I took Carlos off the board?” I need to know, because if things go like I hope, we need to work together.
Toni leans back, weighs the question, then shrugs one shoulder. “Carlos was a debt that needed to be paid by any means.” His gaze narrows. “How’d it feel?”
I let the smile widen a fraction. “Like a fucking orgasm.”
That gets a real laugh from him; it’s short and involuntary, but it’s there. Then he sobers. “How’d you stand next to Sokol without him trying to own you?”
“Favor economy,” I reply. “I paid my toll.”
Toni studies me like a man appreciating a piece of engineering he didn’t commission. “Grigori did mentionAmerican steel,” he mutters. “Looks like he wasn’t exaggerating.”
“Steel bends if you heat it right,” I point out.
He nods once, accepts the gift and the boundary at the same time. “Fair.” A beat. “If you were worried I’d be angry that you took the kill… I’m not. It was clean business."
“Good,” I say. “Because we have other problems to take care of."
He nods.
But first comes the Giordano business; we spend hours that night going over the structure. Who’s dead. Who’s loyal. Who can be flipped. We map routes, assets, laundering hubs, and compromised officials. It’s like rebuilding a crashed server, piece by piece.
Three more die.
One tries to steal from me. One lies to my face. And one sells girls underage, which even in this world is a death sentence.
By the end of the second week, the message is clear: There’s a new king in town.
And I don’t rule with mercy. I rule with precision.
With Toni’s help, I restructure the flow of cash and product. We shut down unsafe brothels and reinforce the profitable ones. We cut middlemen, renegotiate supplier deals, and tighten the drug supply line to minimize leaks. The empire isn’t just running again; it’s becoming profitable.
But I’m not done. The Venezuelans are still a thorn in my side, and from Toni, I find out not just in mine. He invites me to a meeting with him and Stephano. Toni pours drinks, swirling the glass slowly. "I don’t trust those fuckers. The Venezuelans. They're too aggressive. Too loud. And too careless. That’s not street-level muscle, that’s strategy."
He’s right.
I exhale slowly; we’ve arrived at the time in the game where it’s my turn to lay some of my cards on the table. "They’re not just some gang. Roberto and Donna Margarita met with Don Aurelio Valverde—El León—in Caracas. Edoardo sent them."
Toni’s brows shoot up. "Valverde? As in the Lion of Caracas?"
"The same."
"Then we’re not looking at a turf war," Stephano says grimly. "We’re looking at a coup. And Edoardo opened the door for them."
Toni leans forward; his eyes gleam with something between fear and fury. "Tell us everything you know."
I don't. Not all of it. I keep Sophia out—the reason why I was there—but I give them enough. And that’s when I know for sure, Toni and Stephano aren't just going to help me stabilize the empire.
They’re going to help me take it back.
