“We’re not doing that,” Mia cringes. “Call me Mia. We’re practically the same age.”
I smile despite myself. It’s nice when things feel normal, when we can pretend we’re just family having dinner instead of soldiers planning war. These moments are rare enough to savor.
The door opens and Joey walks in, shoulders tight with nervous energy. Kid’s been working the Lightning case for three weeks, trying to infiltrate the college party scene. We’ve kept contact to a minimum, just a few text messages here and there. Too much communication draws attention we can’t afford.
The temperature in the room drops. Joey represents everything that’s wrong right now. Another dead kid two days ago, this time a high school senior. Her parents are all over the news and social media, demanding the police form a task force. All of a sudden, everyone’s talking about Lightning, and that’s going to become our problem. Anti-drug crusaders never stop with just one target. They’ll try to shut down everything, cutting into our profits across the board.
Joey pauses in the doorway. I nod toward the empty chair, and he approaches like he’s walking to his own execution.
“Joseph.” Lorenzo stands, offering his hand. “You honor your family with this work.”
The kid’s nervous. He’s probably never been this close to Lorenzo before. Soldiers don’t usually get face time with the don.
“Thank you, sir.”
They sit, and Joey glances at Mia uncertainly. I don’t blame him for the confusion. Business meetings don’t usually include wives, but Lorenzo’s made it clear that Mia’s his partner in everything. Unconventional doesn’t begin to cover it, but his word is law.
“Report,” Lorenzo commands, and the casual atmosphere evaporates.
Joey leans forward. “I wish I had more. I’ve connected with a group of college kids, party types. Some of them use Lightning, but they won’t give up their supplier. Trust takes time.”
“That’s it?” Luca groans. “Three weeks and you’ve got nothing?”
I feel my jaw tighten. The kid thinks everything should be simple, fast, clean. He doesn’t understand the patience this kind of work requires.
“I can’t rush this,” Joey retorts, and I respect him for standing his ground. “If they suspect anything, I start over from nothing.”
“Or we grab one of them and have a conversation in private,” Luca suggests, like torture’s just another business meeting.
I turn to face him fully. “You want to kidnap college kids now?”
He shrugs. “It’ll work.”
“Maybe. It’ll also put us on every news station in the city. These aren’t street junkies, Luca. These are somebody’s children. Middle-class kids with futures and families who give a damn.”
“So?”
“So when they disappear, people notice. They ask questions. They demand answers.” I lean forward, making sure he understands. “We’re already dealing with dead kids all over social media. You want to add kidnapping to the headlines?”
“Alessio’s right,” Lorenzo says, and I feel the familiar satisfaction of his approval. “Better to move slow than blow everything with reckless stupidity.”
“Then what?” Luca’s voice rises. “We wait around while Joey tries to make friends?”
“You want to do better?” I challenge him. “Prove it.”
Lorenzo slams his hand on the table, and the sound echoes like a gunshot. We all freeze.
“Enough.” His voice could cut glass. “Joey continues with his group. Luca, you’ll infiltrate another circle. Twenty-five’s young enough to pass for college.”
Luca blinks. “I wasn’t volunteering?—”
“Are you refusing an order?” Lorenzo’s tone drops to something dangerous, and I watch Luca realize how close he just stepped to a line that could get him hurt. Don or not, Lorenzo doesn’t tolerate disobedience from anyone.
“No,” Luca says quickly. “You can count on me.”
“And Luca?” I lean back in my chair, letting my voice carry just enough threat to make my point. “Try not to get caught up with another bad crowd. We don’t need a repeat of high school.”
The glare he shoots me could melt steel. If his father weren’t sitting right here, he’d probably take a swing at me. We’vethrown punches before. More like brothers than cousins, and brothers who don’t always get along.
