“I’m Francisco Russo the Third.”
“And I’m fuckin’ pissed.”
Russo kept talking over him. “As I’m sure you’re aware, we previously had a deal with your counterparts.”
“Ain’t our fuckin’ counterparts.” Because the onlycounterpartshis club had were the Fury and the Knights and neither had ever been in bed with the Sicilian Mob.
In fact, no one with a fucking brain got involved with an organization like them.
“Unfortunately, the Demons got a bit sloppy, as well as greedy, which caused their demise.”
“Don’t give a fuck. What’s this gotta do with the Angels?”
“I understand you biker-types are pretty territorial.”
Zeke’s eyebrows shot upward. “You mean like the fuckin’ mob?”
Zeke had to hand it to the guy, he had a knack for keeping his cool. He was able to ignore digs and stay on point.
“I want to inform you that the Twisted Souls are taking over the Demons’ old territory.”
“Already aware of that. Still no reason to use my boy as goddamn bait.”
“I brought you here to ask you to be a good neighbor.”
Of fucking course he did. “Can ask, but that don’t mean we’re gonna comply. Takin’ this to mean the Souls are gonna be your new bitches.” Now it made sense why they were taking over the Demons’ territory.
Russo sat back and studied Zeke. “Would your crew be interested instead?”
“My crew?”
“That gang of yours.”
“Only goddamn gang members in this room are yours.”
Russo released a soft chuckle. “That’s right. The word on the street is the Angels are just that: Angels.”
Was the fuckertryingto get Zeke to launch himself across that fucking desk? Because he was only a cunt hair away from doing just that. “You forget the most important fuckin’ part.”
A single black eyebrow rose. “What part’s that?”
“The dirty part.”
That fucker’s smile was smarmy when he murmured, “That’s quite amusing.”
Zeke pulled in a breath and gripped the chair’s arms to keep his ass in the seat.
He needed to remember he was outnumbered and his son wasn’t far away. While Ledger might not seem traumatized from being snatched, he certainly would be if he saw his father beaten to within an inch of his life or simply shot dead in front of him.
And if that happened and Zeke somehow survived, Kyra would probably finish the job.
Russo placed his palms flat on the empty desk, spread his fingers wide, and leaned forward, the amusement long gone from his expression. “Since you’re not interested in partnering with us, here’s the deal: the Twisted Souls will berunning product through your territory and you’ll let them do it without any interference.”
This fucker didn’t get to call the shots when it came to the DAMC and what belonged to them. “Fuck that.”
“You must’ve missed that it wasn’t a request.”
“Thought the DEA, ATF, and the rest of those alphabet pigs shut that cartel down?”
