My only plan is to keep my mouth shut, watch, and listen, to learn what I can without overstepping. It isn’t my place to interject myself into this situation unless my role on the security team calls for it.
Hopefully, that won’t be an issue, but everyone is tense. And the Hawkes tend to run hot—something I’ve observed many times in the last several weeks.
I catch Bishop’s eyes drifting over to me every few moments, but I do my best to keep my focus on the other people in the room who control the Hawke empire.
Her, I understand. The rest of them are still mostly a mystery to me, and the more time I have to observe them, the more I can learn about how they got here, how they maintain their control over so many businesses, how they’ve managed to become so powerful and influential and how they—for all intents and purposes—run New Orleans.
And today, I’ll find out how they respond to something like what went down last night.
After spending hours post-dinner with Gabe, Saint, Luca, and Bishop scouring every inch of the interior and exterior of The Grind, we weren’t able to find anything that looked out of place or that suggested anyone planted something on the premises.
That should have been a massive relief to everyone.
But somehow, it wasn’t.
Bishop didn’t sleep at all once we got back to my place, instead spending the vast majority of the night pacing or reviewing surveillance camera footage we had already watched dozens of times, hoping to spot something that could help us identify who it was on the video.
I can see the exhaustion written all over her face this morning, but she also has that look that tells me if I mention it, there will be hell to pay.
All I can do is sit here and wait for the private conversations happening in this room to lead somewhere because right now, I don’t have a fucking clue what the next move should be.
For them, or for me.
Finally, Gabe rises to his full height and scans the room. Everyone seems to sense the shift in the energy as his shoulders tense. Whatever he’s about to say, he knows it might not be received well. He glances at Savage before releasing a heavy sigh. “We’ve decided to call Satriano.”
Kennedy lowers her phone from her ear and gapes at him, whoever she was speaking with forgotten. “What?”
Bishop pushes off the wall. “Why the hell would you do that?”
Gabe tosses her a look that tells her to stop questioning their decisions. “Because after reviewing that security footage last night, we know someone was snooping around. It’s either his men, or whoever the fuck shot one of them, don’t you think?”
She purses her lips together and crosses her arms over her chest defiantly, but she doesn’t have any room to debate that with him.
Those are the only two options that make sense.
Either Satriano sent one of his men to scope out The Grind for future action, or someone else did, potentially hoping to catch Satriano there again in the future to take him out. It was the first place he appeared after arriving in town, and since he’s notoriously hard to locate, it may be an opportunity one of his enemies doesn’t want to miss.
No one looks particularly thrilled with the idea of calling him, though.
“We need information.” Savage keeps his voice level, trying to regain control over the rising tempers in the room. “The only way to get it is to actually talk to the man.”
Isaac shakes his head. “I don’t like it, either. Calling him and acknowledging his presence and that we need something from him never ends well.”
Coen nods, running a hand through his hair. “I agree. I don’t think going to him will help. If anything, it gives him more power over us.”
Savage spreads his hands flat across the top of his desk. “We’re not going to be sitting ducks anymore. Everyone will keep working behind the scenes, but we have to open up a dialogue if we hope to get any information that we haven’t been able to find on our own. And as we’ve said previously, he now has a reason to want to come to some sort of peace with us that he didn’t before.”
He glances to Coen.
A growl slips from Coen’s lips, his hands fisting as he shifts forward on the couch. “You’re not using my baby as a fucking bargaining chip.”
His uncle appears unmoved by his distress. “You know how important family is to us, Coen, and we all know how important it is to him, too. It isn’t that we’re using my future grandniece or nephew as a bargaining chip, it’s more like we’re reminding the man of what’s at stake if he doesn’t either back off or help us figure out what’s going on.”
Stone nods from where he stands beside his boys. “I’m sorry, son, but I agree. We have to make the call. If he understands that an assault on us puts Allegra and the baby in danger, it could play very favorably for getting his agreement to something reasonable.” He glances to Luca. “Unless you think differently.”
Luca remains stoic, but I can see the wheels turning in his head.
The former mob boss, more than anyone in this room, would know how Satriano thinks, how he works, the type of things he might be planning.
