Detained in prison until I received a court date, the prosecutor practically begged the judge to deny me bail. He did and I spent a month tucked away with nothing but exercise as my source of entertainment. Given our enemies ranked from low life scum to top notch drug lords, my brother’s connections had me stuffed in solitary confinement.
To keep the other prisoners safe, apparently.
I smiled. “This calls for a visit to Midnight Garden.” I dragged a hand through my hair, reminding myself to get a haircut and headed for the door.
“What about him?” Gian’s question stopped me. I glanced over my shoulder. He was pointing at the boy still staring at his father’s lifeless body.
The emotions normal people possessed didn’t exist for me, my brain functioned on an entirely different level. Chaos and unhinged darkness filled my thoughts all the time, even in my sleep my nightmares dared me to dance on a corpse with a smile.
Returning to the boy, I crouched in front of him, grasped his arms and turned him to face me. “Your papa is dead, but I can still teach you how to shoot, would you like that?” There was nohesitation to his nod. I stood and gestured to one of the other men. “Take him to Katarina.”
“Who’s she?” Gian asked as we headed for the car.
“A Russian beauty who runs a training school for orphans of the parents killed in mafia wars.” And the only woman who’d fuck me with a knife to my throat, instead of her pussy. “As the orphans grow, she either ships them off to serve mafia families or police academies where they later become informants.”
“So you have a heart now?”
“Feeling brave today, are we?” Most men would’ve withered under my dark glare; he merely dropped his gaze. Shaking my head, I climbed into the SUV, fishing my ringing phone out of my jacket pocket.
Gian slipped behind the wheel. “Figo called earlier, he asked for a meeting.”
“Tell him he has ten minutes while I eat,” I muttered, answering my brother’s call. “What’s up?”
“I need you to watch your back.” Lorenzo’s harsh breathing meant only one thing. Someone’s face was getting a massive makeover. “Some fuckers tried to take me out just now.”
“The fuck?” My blood ran cold.
“Dario and I got them all. The one we kept alive sang like a fucking soprano. They’re Hector’s men. He’s mad, thinks we double-crossed him because his shipment didn’t make it to his warehouse,” he explained, referring to one of our customers and confirming my thoughts about why he sounded out of breath.
I tensed. “Are you alright?”
Hector was a ruthless motherfucker who controlled the largest region in the Southwest, distributing a sizable five hundred kilos a week from Arizona to Houston. While he made us a lot of money, he respected us as much as we did him and like Lorenzo and I, he never mixed business with pleasure, not even the free kind.
“Yeah. Minor scrapes but Rayden was with me.”
“Oh, fuck.” No one would survive the brunt of my brother’s power now, even if it weren’t their fault. Callous or not, Hector’s entire family was doomed. My brother saw red if someone unworthy so much as mentioned Rayden’s name.
His laugh lacked mirth before he continued. “If my sources are correct, we have a much bigger problem.”
I gripped the phone tighter, rage already a swirling tornado inside my body. “Who?” Eyes narrowed, I listened to him for another minute then glanced at my watch. “Fucker’s probably piss drunk in pussy right now, and I need him coherent.” I wanted him to see me coming. “I’ll handle him tomorrow evening.”
“Just knock some sense into him, nothing more, please Remo.” I smirked. My brother knew his attempts to caution me always failed, still he’d try. “And stay safe.”
“I’m about to grab some dinner, grant Figo his ten minutes and crash afterward.” Sleep taunted me most evenings, staying on the periphery and the times it granted me leniency, it was riddled with restlessness.
“Remember our discussion about our customers.”
“Yes, brother,” my sarcasm-filled reply earned a grunt before I cut the call, my gaze drifting to the passing scenery.
The problem with having it all, everyone wanted in on it. After Mother’s demise and Lorenzo took her place, some coveted his title and others, they wanted our success. Plenty fuckers out there both mafia and non-mafia, rooted for our deaths. Some it seemed were even going the extra mile to bribe family members and that for me was a huge no. Grinding my teeth to rein in my temper, I pocketed my phone as the SUV drew to a halt outside the restaurant.
“I need another shipment.”
Knife paused on the steak I was appreciating thirty minutes later, I looked at the fifty something man who sat opposite me, refused my dinner offer and got straight to the point.
Expression an overconfidence many had tried on me and failed, his beady black eyes studied me as if I was a cockroach he was ready to squash. That impudence came from inference and in my world, assumption was the mother of all fuck ups.
Still, I took my time. “You owe me ten mil, Figo.”
