I turn my attention toTíoEnrique with his poker face. I can imagine what he’s thinking, but neither his expression nor his posture gives it away. However, my cousins don’t bother hiding their smugness. If my parents wouldn’t string me up by my toes and leave me dangling there for a week, I’d tell them all tofuck off. But it’s a family rule to never swear at one another in earnest. Once in a while, sure, we can get away with it if it’s in jest. But I wouldn’t be joking this time.
“Pablo, set it up.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alejandro
Even though Dillan andTíoEnrique are equivalent, Dillan and Pablo are the same age. They’ve known each other since they were in peewee sports. Pablo grew up in New Jersey while Dillan grew up in Queens, like most of the rest of us. He and Juan never went to school with the O’Rourkes. However, we played peewee, little league, and club sports together. As often as we were rivals, we were also teammates. Our dads took turns bringing the orange wedges and juice boxes to each game.
Within the hour, I’m shutting the door to the strip club’s office and making my way to the mezzanine level. The dim lighting and private tables make this a spot where many of our shady deals happen. It’s that way for all the syndicates and their strip clubs. Boardrooms are for above-board business. However, when legit businesspeople want to do illegitimate business, they meet us in places like this; a den of iniquity in the seedy underworld.
Despite Javier and Joaquin both being older than me, I sit to Pablo’s right whileTres J’sremain standing as our bodyguards. Dillan and his cousin Finn sit across the low table from us.Finn’s younger twin brothers, Shane and Sean, and another set of brothers, Cormac and Seamus, stand guard for their skipper. Such stupid names for roles in the mob. They couldn’t come up with anything better than titles from the ship their family came over on.
“What do you want, Pablo? I’d rather be home with my family than shooting the shite with your ugly arse.”
“But the drinks are on us. How many bottles of whiskey will you make your way through?”
The digs at our families’ origins are a given. It’s like heckling a rival sports team. We all take it in stride, so it doesn’t faze Dillan. His mocking laugh is the same one he’s had since we were all kids. He and Pablo do all the talking while my gaze sweeps over the other mobsters.
Something about Cormac feels off. He’s a shady fucker to begin with and always has been. But the warning bells are ringing even louder than usual. Our gazes meet, and we both reflexively cock an eyebrow before glowering at each other. While I might focus my gaze on Cormac, I still listen attentively to Pablo and Dillan.
“O’Rourke, we know about you and the Kutsenkos. We’ve kept our noses out of your squabbles despite what happened to Jorge’s soon-to-be in-laws. Never once did you or the bratva thank us for not retaliating as harshly as we could.”
“Am I supposed to be grateful that you did us some great deal?”
“Yes.” Pablo’s response is so deadpan it hangs in the air before Dillan cackles.
“You’re crazy if you believe we owe you shite, Pablo. Jorge’s in-laws were unfortunate collateral damage. We apologized. Move on.”
I force my fingers not to flex into a fist because I know it wouldn’t go unnoticed, especially since Cormac’s still staring at me.
“We’re not telling you to back off supporting the Camorra and the’Ndrangheta?—”
“Good thing because we wouldn’t.”
Dillan interrupts Pablo, but my cousin continues as though Dillan said nothing.
“—We are telling you to warn your minions what will happen if they insist upon persecuting Alejandro and Vittoria.”
“You’re making a lot of speculations here, Pablo. You have no proof to show they’re involved in whatever shite Alejandro got himself and his woman involved in. I heard that a woman nearly got the better of you, Alejandro. Slippin’ up. Maybe you should think with your bigger head.”
It’s not a direct insult to Vita, but it’s still a veiled one at my expense. I grit my teeth before I say something I can’t take back. The impetuousness I’ve allowed myself with Vita can’t happen here. The stakes are far too high for everyone involved.
“What, cat got your tongue, Alejo?”
It’s Cormac who takes the dig. The muscle in Dillan’s jaw ticks once, but beyond that, there’s no outward sign he’s annoyed at his cousin for speaking.
“What’s got you so pissy today, Cormac? Your brother steal your favorite toy again?”
“Funny, dipshit.”
“Maybe you’re the one behind all of this, Cormac, since you can’t let go of how I bested you all those years ago. You’ve always been a petty Betty little bitch.”
When we were in college, we both ran underground gambling rings through the fraternities. We didn’t go to the same school—I’m a fuck ton smarter than his dumbass—but the bookies we used sometimes overlapped. One guy fucked Cormac overbecause he thought he could make more by pitting Cormac and me against each other. He died for his sins.
One of the few times Cormac and I agreed on anything.
But before that happened, I cost Cormac three-million-dollars in gambling wins. It’s not my fault I’m better at card and dice games than he is.
