“Together,” I echoed.
“You keep it where it is for now,” he went on. “I don’t want it in my walls until I know which of my walls are rotten. You share pieces when I need to confirm something. I clear my own house before I invite your bomb into it.”
“That works for me,” I said. “In return, you keep your soldiers off my people and off the Shore Vipers. They’re in this now whether they wanted to be or not. Someone tried to kill my man on their turf. They’re not going to sit this out.”
Roman’s mouth twitched. “An all-female motorcycle club,” he said.
“They’re effective,” I defended. “And they’re pissed.”
“I would be disappointed if they weren’t,” he replied. He exhaled, then nodded once. “You have my word. No Giorlando soldier moves on Aces or Vipers behind my back. Not unless you turn that ledger on us. Then all bets are off.”
“Fair,” I said.
His cigar was nearly burned down.
“Remember the code and the seven rules. Whoever’s broken that?” He shrugged, a small, lethal motion. “We cut them out. We salt the earth where they stood.”
“I remember,” I said. “You broke a man’s hand in front of me once because he talked out of turn. Iwas sixteen.”
“You needed to see what happened to disloyalty,” he said. “Looks like the lesson stayed.”
“It did,” I said. “That’s why I’m here instead of selling this ledger to the highest bidder and moving to Tahiti.”
Roman wasn’t a man who laughed often, but he let one out and placed a hand on my shoulder. A second later his seriousness returned and he nodded once.
With that we went back inside. All eyes shifted to us as we returned to our seats.
Vladimir drifted closer, his drink refreshed, his interest obvious. Curiosity over outside discussions were in his eyes. Mirage and Snake Eyes were listening too, their eyes flicking between every face like they were watching a particularly slow bar fight.
“So,” Roman said. “We have a problematic route. A certain little backdoor someone may be trying to use a second time. Docks on…” He named a pier that was real, but the warehouse number he tied it to was wrong. Off by just enough that anyone making a move on it would show their hand.
I followed his lead, adding a detail here, twisting one there. A company name that didn’t exist, but sounded like it could. A shipping schedule that would be easy to watch from a distance without tipping our hand.
To a man like Vladimir, it would sound like two professionals trading specifics. To men like mine, it sounded like bait.
Vladimir nodded slowly, as if filing it away. “We can put extra eyes there,” he offered.
“I’m sure we can,” Roman said. His tone was mild. His eyes were not.
We talked Vincinos after that. Openly. About their reputation for them trying to insert themselves into more East Coast routes than usual. How they hate Roman and his family. How their rivalry dates back decades, long before Roman was even an inkling of his current self.
“It’s bold of them,” Vladimir mused when we mentioned how they seem to be getting desperate. “But boldness has a cost.”
Everyone fell silent then until Roman nodded and snuffed the remainder of his cigar out in the ash tray. That was the signal that the meeting was over.
He glanced at me with a look in his eyes. I could hear him saying “Then we have an understanding.” I nodded once. I knew what was coming next. He was going to want me to handle the shit on my end with Liberty, Jersey Boy and that ledger. Meanwhile, he was going to start investigating his inner circle.
The penthouse doors opened then.
“Heads up,” Mirage murmured under his breath.
Donatella Giorlando swept into the room like she owned the light. Designer sunglasses pushed up into her hair, lips painted a dangerous red. Bags hung from her wrists—brands that cost more than most bikes.
Beside her, Gianna moved with that effortlessly expensive kind of grace only girls born on top of money ever really learn. Dark hair loose around her shoulders. New shoes. New dress.New something in every store bag.
“Papà,” Gianna said, crossing the room over to Roman. She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. You spoil us.”
“You spoil yourself,” he said. “I only provide you the opportunity.”
