Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Rastus’s smile doesn’t falter. He stares down Peter like he’s genuinely amused, but the tension in the room is heavy. My hand reaches for the gun, but I stop myself from touching it. Peter made me promise not to fidget and poke at the gun—the less I think about the weapon, the better. I don’t want to give away the fact that I’m armed if I can avoid it. And yet I want to touch its reassuring weight and heft, to know it’s still there, to know I could fight if I had to. Or at least I could point and shoot and pray I hit something.
Rastus clears his throat. “I am telling you now, because I respect you and your family, that I am not interested in working with Balaska on anything.”
Peter lets that sink in. “There has to be something we can do. Percentages, product—”
“No,” Rastus says gesturing so violently with his drink that some whiskey spills on the carpet. He leans forward. “No, there will be no money changing hands. There will be no heroin coming through my docks. I control Crete’s shipping—” He jabs a thumb into his chest. “—and with it, I control all of Greece. Find another way to important your drugs.”
Peter nods slowly and places his drink down on the side table. He stands and clasps his hands in front of him. “Thank you for the hospitality.” He glances over at me and I get to my feet.
Rastus stares up at him. “I’ve been wondering something about you, Peter. Why would the Calimeris family choose sides this way? They were loyal to the Florakis, but we were all loyal to them. Now, with the Florakis gone and the war with the Russians, it makes no sense. For many years, the Calimeris stayed out of Greek politics and conducted their business as neutrally as they could. Why this sudden change in policy?”
“The world changes. My father and uncle—”
“Your father and uncle aren’t here. I think that’s the point. They’re not here, and they don’t know you’re doing this, do they?”
Peter’s nostrils flare. My heart starts racing. It’s clear that Rastus is right—Peter doesn’t do a good job hiding it. The old crime lord leans back in his chair, grinning smugly, and nods to himself as he sips his whiskey.
“No, they don’t know, that’s obvious. You’re running this operation all on your own. Which makes me wonder what you’re getting out of it. Surely the money isn’t enough.”
“I have my reasons.” Peter composes himself. “Thank you for your hospitality. If there’s anything I can do to change your mind, please come speak with me.” He gestures for me to join him and together we talk to the door.
“Peter,” Rastus calls out. “Whatever Balaska offered you, don’t think for one second it will materialize. But if you want a real partner and a real future here in Greece, perhaps a family of your own—” He pauses and Peter stands stiffly staring straight ahead. “You know how to contact me.”
“Thank you for the offer,” Peter says, opens the door, and steps into the hall.
I join him. He shuts the door with a click. I can see every muscle in his body straining like he’s struggling to keep himself under control. He walks fast back through the house and Bushy Brows appears to escort us to the car. Once we’re buckled and driving, Peter lets out a sharp snarl, fingers turning white as he grips the wheel.
“That didn’t go well,” I say and look out the window, afraid to see his reaction.
“No, Adrienne, it did not go well. I didn’t expect him to agree right away, but I thought he’d at least negotiate. Maybe it would’ve taken more money and percentages and product, but—” He lets out a sharp breath. “Instead, he threatens me.”
“What would happen if he told your family what you’ve been doing?”
The question calms him somewhat, which puts me on edge. “It wouldn’t be good. Most people in Greece know I’m involved with Balaska doing a job, but not many of them know the details. And I could count on my hand the number of crime lords that would be smart enough to speak to my uncle about all this. Filo is one of them.”
“But what would happen? They’d bring you home? Punish you?”
He goes quiet for a long moment. “I think they’d kill me.”
I stare at him and can’t quite believe what he’s saying.
“Your own father? Your uncle? They’d murder you?”
The car bumps along the dirt road. He slows, avoiding the potholes. “You don’t seem to understand how my family works yet. I am meaningless in the grand scheme of things. I’m worthwhile because I can get married to someone politically expedient and create more children to be molded into killers and thrown into the fire like I was, more meat for the family to churn through, but beyond that, I’m nothing. I’m a soldier to them, and the moment I turn my back on my family and betray them is the moment I’ve killed myself. It doesn’t matter if that betrayal is so minor as to be worthless. It doesn’t matter who pulls the trigger that blows my brains out. So long as the trigger gets pulled and the traitor gets what he deserves.”