As their eyes shifted toward the bar, Ashe leaned in and set a pair of leather coasters on the table—one in front of each man—before placing the drinks down. The motion was smooth, invisible in its intent. Just a waitress doing her job.
“The bugs are embedded in the coasters,” Lucian said quietly, smirking.
Smart. No one questioned coasters.
Ashe returned to our table with a couple of earpieces and a round of shots—whiskey for the guys, vodka for me. I picked up one of the earpieces and slid it into place.
“Let’s see what our new friend has to say,” I said, shifting in my seat and knocking back my drink.
For the next ten minutes, we sat in silence, listening. Castillo and Hayes made light conversation, focusing mostly on the game at hand. Castillo laughed too loudly, slapped Jarvis Hayes on the back, and bragged about some offshore bank accounts in Belize. Just typical parasite-with-a-wallet bullshit.
Then the conversation shifted.
“You know,” Castillo said to Hayes, his voice tinged with amusement, “Delgado’s been eyeing this place. Word is, there was a little incident with the Sixth Precinct a while back—some underage prick got hammered here and picked a fight with a cop.Delgado thinks your brother could use that to shut this place down, and then he could buy it for a song.”
Hayes ran his hand over his mouth nervously. Surely he knew that this kind of talk, here of all places, would ignite a firestorm. The others at the table fidgeted, seeming uncomfortable with Castillo’s comments. A couple sitting close enough to hear the men clearly folded, got up, and left.
Lucian’s spine straightened. “Over my dead fucking body.”
“Sit back,” I murmured. “That’s not happening.”
He shot me a look.
“Delgado clearly doesn’t know Luca Genovese,” I added. “Or how many NYPD precincts he holds on his leash. He controls the city’s law enforcement. You think a bar scuffle is going to scare him?”
Lucian muttered something under his breath, relaxed a fraction, and looked back at the table.
“This is how it starts,” I said softly. “They send a mouthpiece, poke their nose where it doesn’t belong, run recon on your business, and try to shake something loose.”
He gave a tight nod. “War drums?”
“Louder every day.”
I tapped the edge of my glass.
“I’ll have DarkMatter install permanent coverage on all casino tables and the third-floor VIP lounges. If Delgado is sending Palabreros, this isn’t a visit. It’s a message.”
Gabriel uncrossed his arms and leaned in. “What kind of message?”
“They’re telling us they’re here,” I said. “Delgado’s sniffing around our territory. And he’s buying influence with Manhattan’s elite. I wonder what he’s got on Jarvis, and if his brother, our honorable mayor Andrew Hayes, knows he’s about to get played?”
Julian snorted. “Fucking perfect.”
Lucian’s jaw clenched. “So we let them drink? Laugh it up without reacting?”
“Yes.” I met his eyes. “We watch. We record. We build the case. This isn’t a street war—it’s a syndicate war. And we don’t make noise until we’re ready.”
Lachlan glanced up. “You want us to share any of this with the mayor’s people?”
“No. Not tonight. Castillo and Jarvis will be dealt with through official channels. Right now, we build our ranks. The first battle will only be the beginning of this war, gentlemen. You’d better be ready for the spark that ignites it.”
Lucian hit his fists on the table. “Well, fucking hell.”
I pulled the earpiece out, dropped it onto the table, and smiled tightly. “I’m calling it a night. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
We all stood.
Lucian’s gaze drifted to the center table again. “Ana’s lucky she got out.”
