Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“I guarantee you, they will all slip up. The bankroll, the pawns. It’s only a matter of time. Close this door, I promise the next will open until we slam them all shut.”
“Is that all you’ve got?” Pit asks.
“For now,” Uncle Blake says.
My mind is racing in a million and one directions. If this is connected to that night, I’m still lost as fuck. Pit and Kelex didn’t even know we were family, as far as I know.
Uncle Blake taps his knuckles on the table. “Oh, by the way, Anthony. Do me a favor. Tell your brother your wife’s last name,” he says, looking at Pit.
“Smith. She’s Lester Smith’s daughter,” I say, believing that’s the point he wants to make.
“Lester Smith. I know that name.”
“He once sat in your position, the eyes and ears of Vander,” he says to Pit. “Although his hands never remained clean, he wasn’t who they painted him to be in the end. He was who your father was meeting the night he died.
“To be honest, Lester’s death never sat right with me—Bridge Lake Bridge.” He snorts. “How convenient? I know, for a fact, he wasn’t behind your wife’s kidnapping as a child.”
I grind my teeth, feeling like Pit and I have nothing but holes while Uncle Blake is playing with a full deck as usual. Pit tilts his head to the side, studying Uncle Blake as he fumes beside me.
“Names are important. Always pay attention to the ones given,” Uncle Blake says, then stands and turns to leave.
“I hate when his ass dismisses me before I’m done with him,” Pit mutters. “This is an unfinished conversation.”
“You know how to find me,” Uncle Blake says without turning. “For now, I think you have all you need. Anthony, come, walk me out.”
I stand and pat Pit on the shoulder. I’ve been around the old man longer and know how frustrating he can be. I also know he’s given us a ton to work with if we use our heads.
I just wish he wouldn’t choose now to do things his way. When I make it through the card room to the main floor, Uncle Blake is standing there waiting for me.
“Tell me, what did your pappoús tell you when he introduced himself to you?” he asks and starts to walk for the exit.
I take a moment to think as I follow. My grandfather came to me while Uncle Blake was locked up. I was frustrated and confused at first, but his presence stuck with me.
“He said Will wasn’t the only one I needed to watch over. He told me my role extended to the Kylix family because the Kylix and Nikolaou families were like one. Some old alliance between families or something.
“He also said he didn’t believe Josh had anyone around him he could trust. Not with you out of the picture. Although he knew he wouldn’t accept my friendship easily, he didn’t want me that close, to begin with.
“He needed me to be able to observe. It was too dangerous for others to know who we are to each other,” I recount what I was told.
Uncle Blake stops at his car as one of his men opens the door for him. He turns to me and looks me in the eyes. I take him in, trying to read him for a clue of what he’s thinking. Something that’s never easy.
“All he told you is true. Talk to Alexis, then come see me. Josh is going to need you. The time is coming.”
“Why not stop all of this if you know what’s coming?”
“Because I’m making you all men. These events are shaping who the three of you will be. Basil feels the same way. It’s character that broke the original leadership.
“Everyone wanting to be the boss and to wield the power. Those who understand how to play their position are still in the game. Those who tried to change the rules, not so much.
“If the three of you go through hardship together, know what pain this has cost each of you, you all will respect the roles you’ve been given. Trust the process, Anthony.”
With that, he turns and climbs into the back of his car. I snort to myself and mutter, “Thanks.”
I’m pissed. This has been dragging out for too long. I want it over.
I watch as his car drives off, lost in thought. My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of engines growling, tailpipes snarling, and cars racing my way. I reach for my gun, ready to pull. However, the red word Assholes painted on the sides of the sleek black racing cars grabs my attention.
“Yo,” Pit calls.
I turn toward him in time to catch the keys he tosses at me. The cars pull into the lot and park in a semicircle around me. I look down at the keys then up at Pit.