“Yes. She sealed the deal. Literally. She knows I have feelings for Lily. She’s a vindictive bitch,” I spit.
Conan nudges my side. “Frankie is waving us over. Let’s go.”
We hop out of the car, boots hitting concrete in unison, and stride towards them. “Mr. Falcone.” I greet him, holding out my hand.
His dark eyes meet mine, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “Drago. It’s been a while.” He says, giving me a firm handshake.
Keller, Grayson, and Luca work their way around the rest of us. I beeline for Romeo.
“I’ve got the note. Decadence headed. Just needs Declan’s signature.” He says in his thick Italian accent.
It has to be Decadence. Because that in itself is the sign. The place the mafia world knows to be the powerhouse. If you get invited to Decadence under usual circumstances, you’re invited into the elite circle of trust, where the world is at your fingertips. Or so you believe.
That is the myth the Quinns have created. They play games with people. Fuck with them. It’s clever. But I’m glad I wasn’t assigned to be a host for them.
I don’t play games. I don’t fuck around.
Declan pulls in beside us, and he and Lev are out of the car before Romeo finishes his cigarette.
“Dec. We need your signature,” I call out.
He nods to me, greeting the New York boys first.
“Who do you want in with you?” Frankie asks.
I look around at the men, all trained killers. Lethal. “You and Grayson. Conan and Finn. The rest split into groups and cover the surrounding areas. Reg and Rowan, you stay here by the cars, make sure no one tries to set traps here.”
Romeo clears his throat. “I’m with you.” He tells me. Not asks.
He’s Enzo’s right-hand man, so I don’t argue.
With that, we head towards the bar. “Conan and Finn, you take the back,” I order as we approach the door.
Adrenaline courses through me as I crack my neck, waiting for Frankie to open it. I’ve got my gun ready.
Grayson covers us as Frankie opens the front door.
The three men’s heads turn at the bar right to us. I spot Conan and Finn approaching from the hallway.
“Good afternoon,” I say calmly.
“I’m looking for Michael,” I say, looking directly at him. It wasn’t hard to track every single detail of his life before I arrived here.
He’s a lot shorter than I thought, though.
He slides back his greasy blonde hair behind his ear. I clock the man in front reaching for his holster, and I tut, aiming mine right at him.
“This doesn’t need to make a mess,” I tell him. Although we’re fully prepared for this to go south. I don’t trust Tatiana not to send an army here to kill me for the damn necklace. I also know she won’t underestimate me.
“How can I help?” Michael says, stepping through the other two men.
A smile tugs at my lips. “We have a message for the Preacher that we would like delivered.”
The blood drains from his face, and I step forward. “Do you think you could do that for us?” I ask, pressing the tip of my gun against his throat.
“I-I don’t know how. I just funnel money through the bar for them.”
“Just money?” I ask.
