I leave Jenna seething in the living room, slam the door to my bedroom in her face, and step into the shower, daring her to follow me. She doesn't.
The water is scalding, just the way I like it. I let it burn, let it scrape the night off me; the sound of Jenna's voice still ricochets inside my skull.My son.The words won't settle. They don't belong to the past anymore.
I'm bracing my hands against the tile when the phone rings. For one moment, I contemplate just letting it ring, but my sense of responsibility wins out. Ten years ago, I fought for my life to become the Don of the Vegas family, and I'm not about to jeopardize it. Not for her. Not for anybody.
I reach for the towel on the warmer, wrap it around my hips, and grab the phone from the vanity where I left it. For a moment, I catch my reflection in the mirror. The scars pitter-pattering all across my chest and arms, twining around my torso onto my back and legs that are currently, mercifully, hidden. Did Jenna feel them earlier when her hands roamed my back? I wonder what she would think of my body now. A sardonic smile curves my lips.
I hit answer and put it on speaker so I can keep drying off. "Talk."
Damiano is on the other end. Like always, he doesn't waste time. "The chopper," he says. "I traced it."
My spine goes still. "I'm listening."
"Venezuela."
The word lands wrong. Heavy. Out of place. Venezuela? "That doesn't make sense."
"I know," Damiano replies. "Tail numbers are clean, though. It's run through a shell company out of Curaçao. Fuel logs match."
I wrap a towel around my waist, my mind already moving.
"I don't buy from Venezuela," I say.
"No," he agrees. "Youdon't."
Venezuelan coke is trash. Flood product. Chaos supply. The kind of shit that burns cities fast and dirty. Which means this isn't business. At least not related to mine.
"What else?" I ask.
Damiano exhales. "The timing lines up with Kingsley's bill."
That's how the pieces click. A choked laughter bubbles out of me. This has nothing to do with me. But EVERYTHING with Kingsley. The Venezuelan fuckers have no idea what kind of hornet's nest they just hit. This is about Senator Kingsley. His clean hands. His public crusades. The trafficking bill that gutted entire pipelines. The next one aimed at drugs:Nevada first.
"This has nothing to do with us then," I say out loud to hear the finality.
"That's what it looks like," Damiano agrees. "This is about Senator Kingsley and his drug bill. They wanted leverage, they got it."
Only that they don't have Jenna. The only one who might have swayed the senator to do their bidding. He doesn't give a shit about Carter or Amauri. I doubted he would make an exception for his daughter even if the Venezuelan's did put their hands on her. But they don't know that. Which means they'll be coming after Jenna harder once they realize their leverage is shit.
That shouldn't bother me as much as it does.
"I'll have Enzo work on the New York angle." I fill Damiano in.
Kingsley is fully in the pockets of La Famiglia in New York. I don't know what kind of leverage they have on him, and I don't want to know, but I do know that touching him could cause waves with New York.
I wouldn't have given a shit six months ago, and I still won't hesitate if it becomes necessary, but Enzo has family ties with them. His new son-in-law is a capo to one of the biggest families. It's easier to work together than to be at war, so I'll give them the courtesy of talking to them first.
After we hang up, I take a deep breath. This drama is taking up more of my time than I want it to. My empire is on fire fromwithin, and I'm distracted by a son I didn't know about and… his mother. Fuck.
I need to get my head in the game and focus on the jackass that Enzo's got strung up first.
I pace.Not because I'm nervous. Because if I stop moving, I might break something. The hallway in front of Massimo's bedroom is too clean, too quiet. The marble under my bare feet is cool, the soft lighting meant to soothe. Nothing about this night should be soothed.
I drag a hand through my hair and exhale hard through my nose.Get it together.
I was ready for this. Ipreppedfor this. I built myself up brick by brick while he was gone, told myself exactly what I would say, exactly how this would go.
Fuck him.
