Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
I sigh and lean forward, laying my forearms against the table. The table shifts under my weight and Flavio’s resolve shifts under my gaze, as he squirms in his chair and picks at the table with his thumbnail.
“You’ll make some quick cash in the short term,” I tell him as if I’m speaking to a child. How the fuck hasn’t he thought this through? “But in the long term what do you think will happen? We’re not the only port on the East Coast, Flavio. If word gets out that the mob is bullying people for a few petty bribes, they’ll go somewhere else. That means we lose our cut—our steady income.”
An eerie calm settles over the men.
No, not calm…
It’s more like the silence that falls over a group of antelope when they’re waiting to see if the big cat is going to leap from the brush and charge at them.
They know better than to fidget and give each other snide looks when I’m the one talking.
Flavio lets out a shaky sigh.
“If they try to leave, we’ll—”
“You’ll what?” I snarl. “You’ll hunt down every multinational corporation that abandons the docks? Do you have any idea how fucking impossible that would be?”
“Well…”
He trails off, doing that annoying thing again where he keeps looking around like somebody’s going to save him. I can’t respect a man whose first instinct is to look for someone to swoop in and solve his problems for him.
I turn my gaze to Luca, his consigliere.
Luca is younger and quieter than his boss, his pale blue eyes narrowed as he takes in the scene. I can’t tell how he feels about this arrangement. I respect how he keeps himself guarded, and I find myself thinking – not for the first time – that dealing with Luca would be much easier than dealing with Flavio.
But Flavio has led the mob for two decades and he’s been mostly steady, the sort of person we can rely on even if we don’t like him much.
“Why do you need this sudden injection of cash?” Kesha asks from beside me. “Do you owe money to someone? What the fuck is going on?”
I smirk when I see Flavio’s eyes widen a fraction. It looks like my little brother has hit the nail on the head as he so often does.
“Who do you owe money to, Flavio?” I say, leaning forward, even more, causing him to shrink back in his chair as I loom over him.
He shakes his head slowly, opening his mouth as though he’s going to speak, but no words come out.
“Well?” I snarl.
“That’s my business,” he says.
“So you do owe money,” Kesha says, seizing on his uncertainty.
“That’s my business,” he whines.
“We could’ve helped you,” Kesha goes on, unperturbed. “If you’d come to us and asked, we could’ve loaned you—”
“You think I’ll take a loan from the Bratva?”
“Would you rather start a war?” I snarl, fighting down the rage moving through my body.
He broke into a woman’s house and threatened her with her daughter sleeping in the next room… and all for his pride.
It’s deranged and sick and twisted and wrong, the sort of lowlife move I’ve been trying to eradicate from this city ever since I took control of the Bratva.
Flavio blinks rapidly like a cowed animal. “A w-war?”
“It doesn’t have to come to that,” Kesha says, giving me a look, his eyes seeming even more wide and boyish behind his horn-rimmed glasses. “But you need to stop pressuring the union. You need to leave them the hell alone so business can go on as usual. If you need help with cash, we can—”
“No,” Flavio snaps. “No, no, no.”
“To which part?” Kesha says, using his reasonable voice.
It’s a subtle hint to me to calm down, I know. He can sense the need to hurt this man coursing through me, to punish him for threatening a woman, and then acting like a little bitch when he’s confronted with his crimes.
He’s just lucky he didn’t hurt anyone. He knows I wouldn’t be able to stop myself then.
“The loan,” Flavio murmurs.
“You’ll back off from the union?” Kesha says.
Flavio grunts, nodding. “Do I have a choice?”
“Every man has a choice,” I tell him. “You can choose to do as we ask… or you can choose war. I’ll grant it’s not much of a choice, but it’s your decision to make all the same.”
“I’ll leave the damned union alone,” he grumbles.
I note Luca’s face pinch tightly for a moment, as though in discomfort, and curiosity moves through me.
I’m not sure if it’s from Flavio’s whiney tone – making them look weak – or from the fact, he backed off so easily.
“Good,” I say, nodding, trying my best to summon a smile as I pick up my whiskey glass.
But smiles have never come easily for me.
I raise the glass up.