Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“The Pavones are a problem,” Lycus agrees. “But they aren’t a threat to the family’s stability. Internal civil war would be much, much worse.”
“We will hold together whether I get married or not.” I put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. “I killed once to take control of the Kazan family, and I’ll kill again if it comes to that.”
Lycus lets out a breath and looks at the ceiling. “I know you will. That’s the fucking problem.”
The elevator doors open and we step out together.
Chapter 5
Evander
The dockworkers’ union boss sits across the table with his right-hand man and his lawyer, and they look like a couple of smug assholes. They traded in their Carhartt jackets and double-knee jeans for Polo shirts and khaki pants, and I’d bet my left ventricle that they’re headed out to play golf when we’re finished.
The whole blue-collar worker thing only means something when it comes time to convince the rank and file to fall in line.
“We’ve had a long and profitable friendship,” I say and study the main boss, a guy named Owen Grady with a ruddy complexion and a squashed face like a gourd three weeks past Halloween. He looks out of place in the dining room of the Drake, but looks aren’t everything. Grady’s a player, and a good one. “I’m hoping we can continue that way.”
“I agree, Evander,” Grady says and sips his coffee and nibbles on his wheat toast. Fucker must have a bad heart or something. I catch him eyeing the bacon on his lawyer’s plate like a dope fiend. “You’ve been good to the dockworkers and we don’t forget that.”
“But?” I glance between the men. His lackeys look uncomfortable, but Grady only sits forward.
“But we’ve gotten some good offers recently, and I’m a businessman. I have to do what’s best for my people, which I know you understand.” His smug smile makes me want to crack his knees in half.
“Of course,” I say and hold back from saying, you’re doing what’s best for you, fucking scum-sucking shithead. “It’s only that sometimes the lowest bidder is not always the best bidder, as you’re well aware.”
“Very true, and out of an abundance of respect for you and your organization, I took this meeting this morning. I would love if we could continue our friendship, but the terms of that friendship are going to change.”
The man has the most punchable face I’ve ever seen, and if he didn’t wield considerable power in this city, I’d crack his fucking nose myself. He sits there thinking we’re equals, but his tenure as union boss is temporary, while I plan on controlling my family for a very long time. I’ll outlive this fuck, and I’ll burn down everything he built when he’s gone.
Instead of voicing those ideas, I gesture to Lycus, who clears his throat. “We’re willing to match whatever the Italians offered you,” Lycus says. “We want your continued friendship.”
What we really want is for the dockworkers to turn a blind eye to the shipments we bring through their ports. We want them to shut the fuck up about the stolen goods, the counterfeit shoes and electronics, and the heaps of drugs. We want them to give our people contracts, and to happily take their cut and wet their beaks, and make everyone fat and rich.
Instead, the fucking Italians want to swoop in and take them away from me, and Owen fucking bootlicker Grady says he can only service one family at a time.
Bastard should be used to servicing multiple people at once with the way he loves to fuck his friends.
Grady only nods. “That would be very generous, but unfortunately, it isn’t all about the numbers.”
“We’ll beat it,” I say and clutch the edge of the table to keep myself calm. I think about Camille riding my cock. I think about coming between her legs. I think about basically anything other than throttling this red-faced fuck. “Tell me what they offered.”
“Evander, really—” he starts, but I interrupt him.
“I’ve been good to you, Grady. I’ve been good to you personally.” I catch his subordinates giving each other a look, and I can tell this makes poor little Grady uncomfortable. I’d bet he didn’t tell his people about the extra cash I was paying him. I bet he wasn’t handing out the envelopes of kickbacks like he should’ve.
But instead of wilting, he sits up straighter and glares at me. Grady’s a player, all right.
“Mr. Kazan,” he says harshly, getting all formal on me. “It isn’t about money. It’s about you.”
I stare at him for a beat and glance at Lycus. My underboss looks as confused as I feel. “How the fuck is this about me?”
“It’s about your leadership.” Grady softens and seems like he’s almost pleading. “Your family’s been on the brink of ripping itself to shreds ever since you took over from your uncle. Now, I won’t say I miss the man, but the way you came to power—” He shakes his head, looking uncomfortable. “It was ugly business, you know that. You raised the temperature in the city and the heat hasn’t died down since. The Italians are promising me stability, and you can say what you want, but that’s not something you can match.”