Pivoting on his heel, Castillo glared directly into the big man’s eyes, locking his gaze with a look that said he had a lot of shit on his shoulders. “Good. All good,” he replied dryly. He never talked about himself. A man who loved his accomplishments almost as much as he loved himself, the boss wasn’t particularly modest, only very private. And he figured, the less people knew about him, the better.
As Castillo marched over to his black executive chair, there came a powerful bash from behind him. “Holy shit!” The window frame had swung wide on its hinges, ramming the wood frame into the outside wall. Turning quickly, the boss tugged the window to a close. As he did so, the same irrational breeze that was its cause, gusted through the closing window in protest ? sending the stack of letters on his desk flying into the air, helicoptering to the ground in front of Bruno like sycamore leaves.
Bruno hastily collected the mess together, gathering the boss’ mail into a thick wad. Placing them into the mail tray on Castillo’s desk, something unsettling caught his notice. Alarmed, his gaze fixed on the letter at the top of the pancake stack of envelopes. Jerking his head up, he stared at the boss with questioning eyes. “Have you seen this?” he asked, slipping the sealed letter from the top of the pile and inspecting it front and back.
Castillo took his seat and shook his head. “Let me guess, it’s from attorney Nick Leonard, Golding Law.” He scoffed.
Bruno gazed at the letter and then back to Castillo. “Goldman Law,” he echoed. “That’s correct.”
“Don’t worry about that. Leonard doesn’t have shit on me. File it away.” He gestured to a stainless steel set of drawers against the wall. “That cabinet over there.”
“Boss, I’d at least read it if I were you.” Bruno held out the letter with an insistent hand. De Luca well knew Nick Leonard was a sly bastard, who knew how to get a jury under his thumb. They’d lost three men to the motherfucker in the past six months ? ten to life locked up in the joint. Like the cocky little motherfucker he was, he loved sniping criminals, especially for heinous crimes, thinking he’d get away with it. Not in this life.Trouble was, he’d become so valuable, the government hid him like a man under witness protection. The only time you’d see him was the day of the trial.
“You think I don’t know what I’m doing? I already know what it’s gonna say,” Castillo said with a shrug. “Goldman’s is just a bunch of monkeys in suits, trying to carve out a living by bluffing that they got something on you when they don’t have shit. I say fuck it. I’ve been in this game longer than you’ve been alive, kid. I won’t eat their bullshit.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he seemed confident, as always, rolling with any punch.
Bruno sighed. “Don’t walk into a trial with those bastard with your eyes closed. If you fall against Leonard, you’ll fall hard.”
Vincent raised an eyebrow, silently reminding him who he was. “Cool it, De Luca.” His tone was level, perhaps mildly agitated, but in his cold eyes, Bruno could see tiny cracks appear where his resolve had been. “It’s none of your damn business anyway,” he said, throwing his hands in the air, “so shut the hell up or get the fuck out of my room!” He sneered.
Unfettered, Bruno leaned forwards over the desk, dropping the envelope in front of the stubborn ass old man. “Boss, don’t blame me for giving a fuck! I’m in your corner. Help me help you. Tell me who you’re in trouble with, and what they have on you,” he demanded, an imperative not a question. He couldn’t help but feel the boss was balancing on a tightrope, running with a blindfold, and every step might be the one where he falls.
“Watch yourself, De Luca!” He looked angry now.
Fuck it. He can stay mad at me. What’s loyalty if you don’t tell a man when he’s in over his head?
“And if you’re wrong?” Bruno probed, undeterred. “You’re headed for the deep end, boss.” He growled, pointing a big finger between Castillo’s killers’ eyes.
The old man threw his head back, chest jumping up and down as he chortled to himself. “And you’re going to save me?” He shook his head, smile wide. “I ain’t your Cinderella, baby cakes.”
Bruno scowled, fists balling, bone’s cracking tight like a snake squeezing the last breath out of its prey. “I didn’t say that. I SAID... you’re skidding on thin fucking ice.” Now he was mad too, real fucking mad. “I’m not here to sweep you off your feet, princess.”That’s right, two could play at this fucking game.“I’m here to stop you from making the biggest fucking mistake of your life.”
Castillo snickered, shaking his head from side to side.
“Listen, dammit!” Bruno barked, getting his bulldog on. “You know I’m right as much as I do. If Goldman Law sends you down, I can’t help you. When it’s all said and done, there’s no patching it up after the judge drops his gavel.” He let out a frustrated breath, eyeing the boss in outrage, allowing his drumming heart to calm. “As I said, if you fall, then you’ll fall hard. So treat me with some goddamn respect when I tell you I’m prepared to fall just as hard to keep you right here, out of jail where you belong. Do you have a problem with that?”
Suddenly silent, Castillo stared at the other man for the longest time. A man who stood fierce and unblinking in the face.THE Vincent Castillo. He had more kills to his name than any serial killer on record. A man who, until now, had never set a foot out of line, Castillo had taken him for a chicken shit like the rest of the guys ? all hard ass shells of real men. Not Bruno. A fast learner, he’d figured out quick it’s not the getting… it’s the keeping. Cold blooded, the bottom of the barrel and yet, the first in his corner.
“Sit down,” Vincent said, rising to his feet, gesturing to the chair on the other side of the desk.
With a slow, singular bow of his head, Bruno pulled out the chair opposite the boss.
Only when he’d sat down, did Castillo follow. Scooting his chair forward, he leaned over the desk, all business, forearms flat down, hands together, and fingers interlaced. “I like you, De Luca. So I’ll level with you. But let me be clear, you betray my trust and I’ll send you straight to hell. Capiche?”
“Capiche.”
He sighed. “Alright. There’s a shit storm coming my way and I don’t want you, or any of the others to get caught in the crossfire. I’m being framed for murder. Framed by the goddamn Mexicans, the ass wipes.”
“Mexicans!” Bruno’s brows jumped in shock. The Mexican’s reputation was for having a lot of moxie. At the bottom of the crime scheme, they’d do anything. They were wild. Spawned from the cruelest depths of hell. Always greedy for more, they would sink even lower, using hell’s deadly force for their own gain. So it wasn’t that he wouldn’t put it past them, but they didn’t have the kind of power to send Castillo down. Italians beat Mexicans. Every. Fucking. Time. “And how the hell are they going to pull that off?”
“See? I thought the same, ignored their threats for the past month and now I get letters from the biggest law firm in the state. Apparently, they’ve got a case against me.”
Bruno felt something ugly claw at his insides. “When’s the court date. You’ve got time, right?”
Castillo cursed. “I’ve got two days.”
“Fuck a duck,” De Luca muttered. An instant later, questions quick fired from his mouth as fast as they entered his thoughts, “Who did they kill? When? And how the hell can they incriminate you for it? They’re barely smart enough to tie their own fucking shoes.”
“That’s true. But let me remind you, Leonard has been after my ass for years. What I suspect is that when this case fell onto his desk, he was using every IQ point in that head of his to set me up for the fall. What I know is, the murder was the work of a Mexican gang from Coronado’s south side.”
