“Yes, and the bets are already rolling in.”
This time, it’s me who chuckles. Leave it to Miko to make sure the money is coming in.
He steps up beside me while Crest disappears up the rickety stairs toward what appears to be offices. “I’ve made connections with a street gang. One that came highly recommended.”
I stare at the cage, imagining the chairs surrounding the outer arena. “We backing them?”
By backing them, I mean paying for them—their training, their games, etc.
“I purchased their warehouse, but the stipulation of them staying open is that they had to sign a contract with us.” He lifts a shoulder. “They were happy to do that once they calmed down.”
I throw my head back, laughing. “Jesus, Miko. Don’t go pissing more people off.” He already has a reputation for beingruthless. The last thing we want is to overstep and have Raf breathing down our necks. The man tends to unleash his fury at the smallest of things.
He nods. “I have a habit of doing that, it appears.”
I finally turn and give him my attention. “Can’t Zane deal with this?”
He blinks, then jolts. “Between him running the casinos, strip clubs, night club, being a right-hand man to the empire, and let’s not forget a father to two? Why don’t you ask him?” he snarls.
“The kids are almost adults. They’ll probably be married off soon if Zane decides it.”
Miko’s jaw tightens and his shoulders become rigid. “If…”
I narrow my eyes on him.
Zane has always been the one out of the four of us to show more of an interest in the Mafia culture; he’s never shied away from expectations, and when he married his now-deceased wife, she was a business arrangement that followed Mafia traditions. Though Sal has never pushed us into pursuing this route, it’s always been something he’s openly encouraged.
However, seeing how disastrously wrong Zane’s marriage went was enough to discourage us to follow.
“You don’t think Fen will follow suit?” I ask, suddenly intrigued by my nephew, who I haven’t seen in a long while. “He’s always been so keen to please his father.”
“His tastes lie in a rather forbidden location.”
Well, that’s vague. I open my mouth to ask more, but Crest appears. “Beer?” He shoves a beer into my hand, and I glance around, looking for where the hell he got it from.
Miko taps away on his tablet. “We have Storm Enterprises coming in at the weekend to enable a security system,” Miko adds.
I grimace as the warm beer slides down my throat. “Fucking needs it.”
“The bar is being fitted next week. Followed by staff interviews on Friday.”
I slice my gaze to his. “You have this all fucking planned, huh?”
“Of course.” He nods, and his lip twitches at the side. “I’ll expect you to be here for those.”
Scoffing, I down the rest of the beer, then I turn and shove the empty bottle into his chest. “Just make sure the beer isn’t fucking warm.”
CHAPTER FIVE
MASSIO
The man can go on for days. I’ve heard about his fishing expeditions, his golf club collection, and now, he’s rambling on about the country club he visits, like I know where he’s talking about, and worse, like I care.
“And the appetizers are to die for. The chef really is stupendous.”
I blow out a deep breath. How the hell he can talk about food when we’re still waiting to start ours is beyond me.
“Where did you say she was again?” I ask Ford as I stare down at the appetizer.
