Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“Come sit down,” he barks at me. “Your pacing is driving me insane.”
“You complain that I take forever to read,” I say, dropping into the chair across from him. “But you’ve been at that for an hour now.”
He gives me a hard stare. “My eyes aren’t what they once were. And watch your damn mouth.”
I shrug slightly, hiding my smile behind a sip of whiskey. “The books are good, Grandpère. They aren’t exactly how you’d keep them, but everything is there and accounted for.”
“Yes, I’m beginning to see that.” He sits back, giving me his normal look, which is caught somewhere between annoyed and murderous. “I never wanted you to come to America, Julien. You remember that?”
“Hard to forget.” We fought about it for weeks before I finally left to set myself up. “But I’ve earned well.”
“Yes, you have.” He says it very grudgingly. “But you have barely expanded in the last few years.”
“That’s why I married Brianne. My connection to the Hayes Group will guarantee steady shipments of new product at good prices.”
“I don’t want to hear about your dog of an Irish wife,” Grandpère snaps. “I am still unhappy about that.”
I lean forward. “I warned you once. Don’t make me keep saying it. You can insult me, but you will leave Brianne out of it.”
I hold his stare. I want him to understand that I mean this. I have lines, and Grandpère will respect them. It’s strange thinking Brianne is one of those lines, but here I am.
Grandpère’s eyes narrow, but he lets out a huff. “Good. You’re protective of your woman. That’s the way it should be. But don’t forget who I am.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Because the moment I start thinking of him as a doddering old man is the moment I turn my back on a starving bear.
“Your association with the Irish is a reasonable idea,” he says, studying my reaction. Despite myself, I feel a flare of pride. Even still, any praise from Grandpère goes straight to my head, and I hate myself for it, for being so damn weak. “But we can do better.”
I sit up straighter. I don’t like where this is going. “I’m not sure there’s a we at all. You’re here to visit. Nothing more.”
“I’ve been having conversations about your operations. From what I hear, they’re good, but sloppy. I know of a dozen ways to tighten things up, from more varied delivery drivers to a wider range of safehouses. But most of all, I believe I know how we can build a stronger foundation on which to grow.”
I rub my face, barely keeping my frustration in check. “And how’s that?”
“Dusan Petrovic.”
That’s not what I expected. Grandpère watches me carefully as I consider that name. Dusan’s the head of the Serbian mob and a former ally of mine, though we never really got along. I respect him, as far as that goes anyway, and generally, I’ve kept my distance from his territory while he’s done the same for mine. We have a working relationship and a quiet truce, but nothing more.
“I’m not sure what you want with Petrovic,” I say, trying to be very careful. “But we don’t bother each other.”
“That’s your problem.” Grandpère sneers. “You’re too tentative, boy. You’re afraid to change things. To get your hands dirty.”
“This isn’t France,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I don’t have the same power here that you enjoy back home. I have to be more careful.”
“Careful. Pathetic.” Grandpère waves a hand in the air as if warding off flies. “Petrovic has good territory. He’s got a large customer base, lots of pathetic junkies buying his shitty product. That’s a market waiting to be taken.”
“You’re not seeing this clearly.”
“On the contrary, I see it much more clearly than you. Petrovic is weak. His family is tight-knit but they haven’t been in a war in a long time. You have better soldiers, and with my help, we can crush him in a matter of weeks. Once he’s out of the way, it’ll be easy to move in, take control of his territory, and double the size of your own in one fell swoop.”
I can’t believe what the crazy old bastard’s saying.
From an outsider’s perspective, it might make sense. Dusan’s family is very concentrated. There aren’t a whole lot of Serbians in the city, and they’re extremely wary about working with outsiders. It took a lot of effort to make Dusan agree to work with us during the first alliance, and that fell apart very quickly.
In a vacuum, I could take Dusan down. Grandpère’s right about that. I have the manpower and the resources to make it happen, mostly because I can hire muscle much faster than Dusan can train up new soldiers.
But that’s not how Chicago works. If I took down Dusan, it would mess with the balance of power. The other, smaller gangs would be pissed, and the largest mafia in the city would notice.