Page 76 of King of War

“You come to discuss Falcone, yes?” he asks. “I hear little birds talking.”

“He’s told one family that I took out the Bertellis on my own, and at the very least hinted at it to all of the others.”

He breathes out slowly through his nose, making a humming sound as he does. “So, what you do now? You need men? Guns?”

I shake my head. Absolutely not. “No. I’ll take care of the don. But I wanted to make things straight between us before I make any moves.”

“Between you and I?” He waves his hand between us, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“No. Between our families and yours.”

“Ah!” He nods, smiling. “Between Russians and Italians, yes?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what deals Carmine was trying to broker, but there won’t be any negotiation on territories under my watch. We can be allies, Ivan. Maybe even friends. I respect you and I would never double cross you, but we won’t be business partners. Family comes first. Always.”

He stares at me for the longest moment, his cool gray eyes scrutinizing every inch of my face. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but it had to be done. I won’t start a war with the don until everyone on all sides is clear about what I’m fighting for. I’m not doing this as any kind of favor for Ivan, for anyone. I’m doing this for me. For my brothers. For Rayne.

Ivan smacks his lips together. “An alliance with Enzo Medici?” he says it like a question, like he’s mulling it over.

“That’s what I’m offering.”

He’s still quietly observing me, perhaps wanting me to squirm, or rethink my offer. I stare him down. That won’t be happening.

“I was not wrong about you.” He pours himself a sweet tea. “But what I do not understand is why a man with so much…” He frowns, screwing up his face the way he does when he’s trying to find the word. “…power, would serve at Carmine Falcone’s side all these years.”

“He’s the don,” I remind him.

That makes him laugh for some reason. “Yes, but you are the one with all of the connections, yes? The police commissioner is a regular at your hotel, no? The gambling commissioner came to your father’s funeral. Judges. Politicians. Even the man who shines Carmine’s shoes… Oliver?”

Oliver Green is the man who polishes Carmine’s shoes, among other things. He keeps those marble floors of his waxed to a mirror shine too. An ex-army vet I found under a bridge one night in the cold. How the fuck does Ivan know him though? “What about him?”

“Even he is loyal to you, yes? They are all loyal to you, Enzo Medici.”

Something unfamiliar creeps along my spine, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Ivan is no threat to me right now, but he knows far more about me than I care for. Yes, most of Carmine’s connections are my connections. This city, which he assumes is loyal to him, is loyal to me, but how does Ivan know that? And what’s his fucking angle here? “And?”

“Why do you give all of that to him?”

“My loyalty?”

He nods. “Theirs too.”

I swallow the knot of grief that seems to come from nowhere. He bought it with something he didn’t even own. “I made him a bargain. I might have a lot of allies in this city, but as the don, he has them everywhere else.”

“You were protecting someone?” he asks, sharp as an arrow.

I nod.

“And now?”

“Now I know that he’s the only thing she needs protecting from.”

The left side of his mouth twitches and his cold eyes soften into something a little warmer. He has a wife—Valeria. I saw him with her once, the way he was always subtly touching her, holding her hand or resting his on her back, or her hip, or her ass. He’s a guarded man, and for good reason, but there was a moment when he looked at her and I saw how easily she could undo him. It was fleeting, no doubt unnoticed by most, but I noticed because it was the way I used to look at Rayne. The way I look at her still.

He reaches across the table, holds out his meaty hand to me. “I accept.”

Chapter

Thirty-Eight