After that, we ate the rest of our breakfast, Penn slowly joining the conversation. We didn’t mention in too much detail about last night or anything to come in front of the kids. We couldn’t tell them nothing because the way Penn looked with his bruises, the added security, and the fact that they couldn’t go into school, they’d be more scared if they didn’t know something was going on.
Rita ushered Matteo to his room to complete some assignments his teachers had sent to his email and took Owen and Olivia into the playroom for some lessons. Then it was Dean, Penn, and me.
“Why don’t we go to my office, Penn? I should bring you up to speed on everything we’ve found out since last night and what it means going forward.”
I was glad when Penn didn’t push back and say he wanted to leave town again. Perhaps it was what we’d done last night, or what he’d confessed at the table, but there was a shift and it was in my favor.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Pennsylvania
Deanand I sat in the chairs in front of Gideon’s desk. Once he was situated in his seat, he hit some keys on his computer and turned the screen to face me.
“See the red spots?” I nodded. “Those are all the areas I own.” He clicked away again. “The blue are Lorcan’s.”
“You clearly have more territory.” Lorcan had maybe a quarter of what Gideon did.
“Problem is, just three months ago he had nothing.”
Ah, I saw the issue. “He’s taking what’s yours—it’s some power thing, right?”
Dean interjected. “Lorcan had an older brother, Callan. He was vicious and powerful. Gideon and he had an alliance of sorts. Each stayed in their corners and they’d be fine. But, Callan, I don’t know, got bored or whatever and started encroaching on Gideon’s territory, and he was as subtle as a bomb. He didn’t takeover with finesse—no, he massacred Gideon’s associates. It was a dark time.”
“Damn.” I glanced at Gideon. “Lacey mentioned you may have had something to do with Callan’s death.”
“I absolutely did,” Gideon answered with conviction. “He got what he deserved. I shot him right in the head at his home on his steps. I didn’t hide it. He tried to take from me and killed my people.”
“And let me guess, when Callan was dead, you sidled into his properties and took them.”
“Yes.”
“Lorcan left Northchester; he wasn’t a huge player in his brother’s game. And honestly, we expected some type of retaliation, but we thought it would come slower, and we’d see it a mile away.” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “Apparently Little Anders took a page from his brother’s playbook and came in guns blazin’.”
“So, he thought killing your brother and the rest of your entire family was a good idea?” I snorted.
Gideon sat back, his folded hands resting on his stomach. “Perhaps he knew he’d be signing his death warrant, or he thought he had enough power to take me head on. Either way, you…” He smirked. “Were an obstacle he didn’t see coming.”
It was sinking in just how serious this was and that Gideon was probably right. I’d foiled not just a plan to take over but the revenge he sought for his brother. He would hunt me and wouldn’t stop until I was dead.
“I see.” I looked at Dean, then focused on Gideon. “After last night, you know he’s just going to escalate. I mean, I don’t know much about the mafia, but I know they don’t take well to being humiliated and having a huge chunk of their soldiers mowed down.”
“Hold up.” Gideon lifted a hand. “I’m not mafia, and this isn’t somecosa nostrabullshit.”
“Okaaaaay, so what would you refer to yourself as?”
Dean chuckled. “Mafia has deep cultural roots, a strict hierarchy, things like that. We’re not that at all. I don’t work in Gideon’s organization. I’m an accountant, have my own business, my own clients. Rita, she runs a nonprofit for the homeless community.”
Gideon interrupted. “I don’t expect Owen, Matteo, or even Olivia to inherit anything I’ve built.”
That was good to hear, and I’d seen enough mafia movies to know there wasn’t often a choice—futures were decided, end of story.
“What would you refer to yourself as, then?” I was curious about his answer.
He shrugged. “Head of a powerful syndicate some would call me, others a successful businessman. Philanthropist, perhaps.”
I snorted. “I see. And Lorcan’s organization, do they have a mafia mentality?”
“No, they’re thugs. No class, no respect. They thrive on blood, money, and ownership. It’s why Callan had to be stopped and why Lorcan will be as well.”
