I could so easily find him and tell him I didn’t mean it. That I was wrong. That what happened afterward was supposed to show him that instead of drive him away.
Instead, I rinse off, get dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, and head to the last place I really want to go. Home.
The sun is just starting to rise when I arrive at the estate almost thirty minutes later. I don’t know who will be awake when I walk in, but someone surely has more information to give me about the situation. That or I can train those two teenagers. Something to take up a few hours of my time. To help me ignore the urge topummel something or someone into the ground, or reach out to Aleksandr.
Much to my surprise, when I walk in, all of my brothers are sitting in the family room drinking coffee and eating croissants and various fruits and meats.
“You’re all up early,” I say.
Carmine sips at his coffee. “I was about to text you to get your ass over here. I’m surprised you’re awake. I woke everyone up to discuss something very important.”
I eye him and take a seat on one of the ottomans near Tiberi. “What is it? Did the Bianchis try to bomb the place while I was gone?” I ask.
Carmine chuckles and shakes his head. His eyes are dark though.
“No,” he replies. “I have a feeling you’re not going to like what I have to talk about, so why don’t you have some coffee first if you haven’t already.” He motions one of the staff to pour me a mug of coffee with cream. They know how I like it.
I purse my lips. “Why don’t you just get on with it? If I’m not going to like it, it won’t matter either way, right?” I take the mug of steaming hot coffee anyway and just hold it. Squaring my shoulders in his direction.
“I’ve decided we should attempt to talk to the Carvels before we do anything too hasty,” Carmine says. “Perhaps they’ll be willing to settle this time once they find out how much stronger we are compared to the Bianchis even with their help.”
My blood instantly boils in my veins. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask him. “Talk to them? You know how they are. They’ve already made a deal with the Bianchis; they’re not going to deal with us! They want power, and we sure as shit aren’t going to give them that.”
“No, we’re not, but if they want to live, they’ll agree to talk to us,” Alessio says. “If they don’t, we’ll do things your way.”
“Wait just a minute, we’re not doing things Tommaso’s way,” Carmine says with a shake of his head. “We’re doing things my way, and if that means putting some heat into the heads of the Carvels so be it, but right now we need to think clearly. The Bianchi can offer them power, and money, but it only goes so far. What they really want from them is protection.”
“Actually, what they really want from them is money,” I interject. “Protection, sure, but the Bianchi are giving them a whole load of clean cash just for their guns, who knows how much else for their men.”
“Shouldn’t you know that if you’ve been talking to Aleksandr?” Cassian asks me as he sits with his arms folded and a suspicious look on his face.
Nikolas and Beau are both in the room as well, but they’re quiet. Observing.
“Alright, I do know how much and trust me it’s a lot,” I tell them. “We can offer them more, sure, but what we can also do is save ourselves some fucking money and just take them down,” I insist. “Then we don’t need to worry about them at all.”
“You’d rather resort to violence in all this even if we can work it out by handing them a check and seeing them disappear from Italy?” Tiberi asks.
I growl low in my chest. “Is no one else on my side?” I ask in return. “Does no one else see how fucking idiotic it is to try to talk to the Carvels? What’s next, we try to discuss a truce with the Bianchis? Does no one remember how we tried for months to get them just to have a conversation with us only to end up with a dozen dead men?”
Carmine’s jaw shifts and his eyes narrow. “I don’t think running in armed and hot is the right move right now,” he tells me honestly. “I want to avoid as many deaths as possible, Tommaso. We’ve lost enough people already. Father…”
I glare at him. “Don’t bring him into this,” I snap. “He never would have died if we had out shit together in the first place. If we took down our enemies from the second they became them instead of trying to talk to them. Reason with them.”
“So that we can be like Eivor Fiorelli was?” Damian asks from his place next to Alessio. “He killed without thinking. He killed simply because he wanted to.”
“That’s not who we are, Tommy,” Carmine insists. “We’ve done some messed up shit, but it’s always to protect our family and our city. Not just to cause pain.”
“Maybe we need to cause a little pain,” I growl under my breath. “Maybe I’m sick and tired of ending up with yet another issue because we didn’t tie up the last one clean enough.”
“Tommy—” Soren starts, but I put a hand up and turn around.
“No, I’m done with this. If you wanna talk about meeting with the Carvels, go ahead, but I’m not going to be a part of this conversation. I’m done not getting shit done.”
“I forbid you from meeting with the Carvels,” Carmine says quickly, making it clear that it’s a direct order and not just his wishes.
“Bite me,” I mumble head for the front door.
“Don’t get yourself killed!” Cassian calls after me.
