He’s not armed, so I straighten up and study him for a long moment, letting the silence stretch. I have no idea who this man is, and I don’t appreciate being interrupted when I was spending time with Mina.
“Mr. Cross.” I sit back down, but I don’t invite him to join me. “You have sixty seconds to explain why you just pushed past my capo and walked into my office uninvited.”
If the threat bothers him, he doesn’t show it.
“The Sokolis are moving into southwest Malus,” he says bluntly. “They’re targeting Lucania bookies, betting shops, gambling dens. Small operations at first, but they’re working their way up.”
I know this already. I have eyes throughout the city, and the Sokoli encroachment hasn’t escaped my notice. What I don’t know is why this stranger thinks it’s my problem.
“That’s Lucania territory,” I say. “Not Montoni.”
“For now.” Silas’s eyes are steady on mine. “But the Sokolis aren’t going to stop. You help the Lucanias hold the line in the southwest, and those casinos of yours in south-central Malus stay safe. The Diamond Grand. The Obelisk. If you don’t, the Sokolis will keep moving north.”
Smart pitch. Appealing to self-interest rather than altruism. I can respect that, even if I’m annoyed by the delivery.
“Who are you?” I ask. “Why do you care what happens to Lucania territory?”
“Gabriel Lucania and I go back a long way,” he says. Loyalty flickers in his eyes, deep and fierce. “With him and now Rafiel put away, I’m doing the family a favor. Watching over their concerns.”
Ah. So this is personal for him. The Lucanias must have saved him or someone he loves at some point. That kind of loyalty is rare in Malus.
I lean back against my desk, crossing my arms. “Rafiel is in prison now as well? Father and son, reunited at last. How touching.”
Silas’s jaw tightens, but his voice stays level. “Gabriel and Rafiel won’t be inside forever. When they get out, they’ll remember who helped them and who didn’t.”
It’s a reasonable point. The Lucanias control significant territory, and despite their current incarceration, there’s no doubt they have influence.
There’s already been Sokoli violence at the Diamond Grand and Obelisk, my casinos in central south Malus. If it continues, patrons will stop gambling there, the venues will close, and the Sokolis will buy them cheap.
But I don’t like being told what to do by strangers who walk into my office like they own the place. And I really don’t like menwho send messengers instead of speaking to me themselves. The Lucanias might be in prison, but they can still pick up a phone.
I smile, but there’s no warmth in it. “Does it annoy you, being the Lucanias’ errand boy?”
The temperature in the room drops about ten degrees.
Silas takes a step forward, and I see Nico’s hand move to his weapon in my peripheral vision.
“I heard your father was an arrogant piece of shit,” Silas says, his voice quiet and dangerous. “I see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
I’m across the room before I’ve made the conscious decision to move, my hand fisting in Silas’s collar, slamming him back against the wall. Nico and Paulo materialize at my sides, guns drawn.
“Say that again,” I say softly. “I want to make sure I heard you correctly before I put a bullet in your skull.”
Silas doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t try to fight back. He just meets my eyes with that same steady, infuriating calm.
“You heard me fine, Don Cristiano. When the Sokolis come north—and they will—whose side are you on?”
For a long moment, we stay frozen like that. My hand in his collar. His back against the wall. My men’s guns pointed at his head.
Then I release him and step back.
“If the Lucanias want my help,” I say, my voice cold and controlled, “they can ask me themselves. Rafiel can pick up a phone and call me like a man instead of sending…” I gesture at Silas dismissively. “Whatever you are.”
I turn my back to him and walk to my desk.
“Do you know the way out, Mr. Cross? Or would you like me to have my men show you?”
Silence. Then footsteps. The door opens.
