Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
“Yes,” he snaps. “Pretending the Cartel and the Bratva are the same, that we make the same money and have the same goals. We don’t, Damien. We never did.”
“That’s right,” I say, a growl beneath my words, threatening. “We’re not the same.”
I only stop when I feel Max’s gaze on me. He knows I’m about to mention the low-level dealers, the disrespect, the fact I’m working to make our businesses legitimate, whereas they want to live in the gutter forever.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he says, staring closely at me. “You’re an angel. I’m a devil.”
“I’d never claim to be an angel.”
“But you agree I’m a devil, hmm?”
I grit my teeth, turning away and looking around at the men. It seems odd the way they stand there, with their hands by their hips, when none of them have guns. It’s a force of habit.
“We’ve known each other a long time, Damien.”
Too long.
“Which is why I wanted to meet like men and make you this offer. Leave the Bratva and leave the city. Don’t fight me. This isn’t about the traitor’s girl. This is about my goddamn city.”
Max leans forward, probably sensing I’m about to explode at Gabriel. “Why the sudden change of heart?” he says, his voice far calmer than mine would be. “I don’t get it. We’ve been working together just fine for years.”
Gabriel looks at his second quickly, then back to us. His second’s face gives nothing away. It never does.
But Gabriel’s does.
There’s panic there, hiding behind all the tough-guy bluster.
“The Cartel wants you to leave the city if you can’t take control,” I mutter.
Gabriel flinches, squeezing the edge of the table, leaning back.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
My mind is ticking, pulling evidence from last year. I heard the Cartel was growing disinterested in the city, with all the complications, with only low-level dealers able to operate. If the rumors were true, Gabriel wanted war, and the Cartel rejected him.
Maybe they’ve told him. It’s time he made a play.
“That’s it.” I sit up, staring down at him. “Your days of coasting by on our earnings are over. The Cartel wants you to turn this city – my city – into a drug-infested wasteland. Is that it?”
Gabriel winces, looking more like a lost little kid than a scary Cartel boss.
“It’s time for me to take on my rightful place in the city,” he says. “That’s the truth. It’s time for me to be recognized for who I really am.”
“So, what’s your plan?” I snarl, remembering the party, the way he spoke to my woman.
My fucking woman.
I think of the things I’ve had to accept and tolerate just so the city would keep moving along. Just to keep catastrophe at bay. And now he wants to take it all for himself.
“You’re going to ask me to leave, and I just will?”
Gabriel shakes his head slowly. “No. If you don’t leave, I’ll kill you. That’s it. There it is.”
I smirk. “You’ll kill me…how?”
The men are tensing up around us, mine and his, everybody ready for a fight. All Bratva and Cartel can sense when violence is near, a feeling in the air, a whisper that everything’s going to go up in flames sooner or later.
“Just walk away, Damien. You’re rich. You can go anywhere. You can even take that traitor girl. Just walk away.”
“You sound scared, Gabriel,” I snarl. “You sound like a man who knows he has to do something but knows what will happen if he fails. Do you think the Cartel will swoop in to avenge you if you try to kill me and fail? You know the rules. That will be your fault, not mine. Every man has a right to fight back, Cartel or Bratva.”
“I won’t fail,” he says, grinding his teeth from side to side. “Not if it comes to that. Not if you force me to act.”
“If I force you,” I snarl, shaking my head slowly. “Nobody’s forcing you but yourself. You have the resources to disappear. The Cartel will never find you. You don’t have to do this.”
“And then who would I be, exactly?” Gabriel says in disgust. “I wouldn’t be the leader of the Cartel anymore.”
“You’re not the leader now,” I snap. “You’re a man who came to this city almost a decade ago with big dreams. You started a war. You lost. I didn’t put you in the fucking ground because you’re like that little prick at school, Gabriel. You know, the whiny little kid everybody hates…but you’ve got older brothers, older friends, and so we have to put up with you.”
Max is staring at me, silently willing me to stop, but I can’t, not now that I’ve started. It all comes tumbling out as the unfairness hisses through me, sparking as I think of Liliana, sweet Liliana in the tattooist’s chair, while Gabriel stared across the room.