“I believe he’s angry,” Blackjack said. “He’s treating this like a violation of his code. I got the Omertà, seven rules, family-firstspeech, the whole nine. He’s going to go looking for who touched his pier.”
“You told him about the ledger?” 8-Ball asked.
“Yes,” Blackjack replied. “He knows it exists. He knows it came out of that bike that arrived on his dock. He knows it maps Vincino’s network and too many of his own people.”
Rosé’s jaw flexed. “How much did you tell him?”
“Enough,” Blackjack said. “Enough for him to realize it’s dangerous.”
“What about ‘The Russian’?” I asked.
Bringing that up made my stomach twist.
“Yes, the ledger mentions ‘The Russian’ as a bridge between Vincino, the Russian Syndicate, the Bolivar Cartel, and others,” Blackjack said. “But there’s no name. Just a title or nickname. Roman’s consigliere wears that like a crown. Vladimir was in the room with us.”
“And?” Liberty asked.
“And I told Roman what we found without spelling it out,” Blackjack said. “He saw Vladimir at his bar and his wheels started turning. Salvatore was on the scene at the docks when the bike arrived too. His eldest, Valentino, was hovering near the throne with big eyes and bigger ambitions. Roman knows at least one of those three, or someone close to them, is either leaking information, or being used.”
“Any moves yet?” 8-Ball asked.
“Not that he’s showing,” Blackjack said. “But we seeded something. A fake route. A real pier but wrong warehouse, invented a made-up shell company. Talked about it like it was legit while Vladimir and Valentino listened. If anyone touches it, we’ll know exactly how fast the leak moves and where.”
Rosé’s lips curved slightly. “Bait,” she said.
“Exactly,” Blackjack said. “In the meantime, he’s agreed to help us while he does his own hunting just as long as we don’t turn that ledger into a weapon against him.”
“And the book stays where?” Liberty asked.
“Not in his walls,” Blackjack said. “He doesn’t want it anywhere near his house until he knows which of his walls are rotten. Which means it stays where it is for now. With you.”
Every eye in the room turned to me.
“And the idiot carrying it,” Liberty finished.
“Jersey stays with the ledger. Vipers stay with Jersey. Two clubs, one bomb,” Blackjack replied.
My pulse kicked.
Liberty’s gaze didn’t waver. “Fine,” she said. “He’s ours, then. Our guest for the time being. Our responsibility. Our leverage.”
“You always did love acquisitions,” Blackjack said mildly. Then his tone shifted. “You good with that, Jersey?”
“Yes,” I said. My voice didn’t shake. 8-Ball’s earlier words had burned into place, leaving muscle where panic had once been.
“Good,” he said. “Because this thing doesn’t move without you knowing where it is, who’s touching it, and where it’s going.”
Valkyrie’s arms were crossed, but I felt her look flick toward me.
“What about the Vincinos?” Turnpike asked. “Any word from their side?”
“Not yet,” Blackjack said. “But they know their package didn’t land. They know their bike wrecked. I’m sure they know someone tried to finish Miami and failed. They’re going to start feeling exposed. Desperate people move loud.”
“And the Feds?” Liberty asked.
“If they get a whiff of this ledger, everyone in it starts dying,” Blackjack said. “Including people who don’t even know they’re in it. We’re keeping this in the family. That means our families. No uniforms. No suits with badges. If a cop looks at Miami’s chart wrong, we handle it. Understand?”
“Copy,” Valkyrie said.
