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)
“And the American branch is my organization. I built this from the ground up. I secured our alliances and established our business. I made America profitable for you, Grandpère, and I know how to handle things here. You made a strategic error today.”
His eyes narrow. I can tell I’m skirting dangerously close to pissing him off, but I don’t really give a damn what the old man thinks right now.
“You think so?” he asks, his voice raspy and quiet. “Go ahead and explain.”
“Dusan Petrovic might be the head of a smaller family, but he’s ruthless and stubborn as hell, and one of the men killed in your attack was his cousin. He will stop at nothing to get his revenge, which means blood in the streets, and once there’s killing by the underworld families, the Biancos will get involved.”
“Ah, yes, your dreaded Biancos.”
I grind my teeth and bite back a snarl. “Yes, Grandpère, like it or not, the damn Biancos are the real strength in this city, and they really don’t like it when we are killing each other.”
He waves a dismissive hand. “You don’t have to worry about them. I reached out to their leader already. I’m sure the two of us will come to an agreement.”
Simon Bianco, that conniving fuck. Grandpère doesn’t understand, but he will. The Biancos don’t care about us, not beyond their own bottom line, and they won’t condone an all-out war in their city, no matter what Grandpère thinks. Simon Bianco is going to turn him away, and when that happens, I’ll have to clean up the damn mess.
“You made a mistake,” I say again, staring him down with every ounce of my will. Grandpère doesn’t seem to notice or care. “But I’m caught in the middle and you know it. I can’t go against your decision or else I’ll risk looking weak, but if I back this war fully, I risk fracturing the prosperity I’ve painstakingly built here.”
“Sounds like you don’t have much of a choice.” The vicious glee in his voice makes my blood boil. “We both know there’s only one option for you now.”
Put a gun to his head and pull the trigger.
I take a step closer to his desk. He doesn’t even flinch. “I’ll finish Petrovic off as quickly as I can, and when that’s over, I want you to go back to France.”
“I don’t know. I’m starting to like it here. These Americans are all so friendly. Though their women—” He makes a face and shakes his head. “They don’t know how to dress.”
“Gone, Grandpère. Go back to Marseille.”
“If I don’t?” His smile pulls back over his gums, showing his gray teeth.
I leave the room without responding. A petty threat will get me nowhere, and a serious one will only make Grandpère even more stubborn. Better to let him fill in the blanks and wonder what will happen if he forces my hand.
“How’d that go?” Jean asks, tailing me as I storm back down the hall.
“About as well as you think.”
I reach my car, but Jean doesn’t move to get in with me. I think he knows what kind of mood I’m in. “I’ll stick around here and ask around and see what the men are thinking.”
“You do that. Find out if they understand the tension between Grandpère and me.”
“Our local guys don’t know and don’t care, but the men he brought—” Jean leaves that hanging, but I already knew none of those bastards would listen to anything I had to say over Grandpère.
If it comes down to a civil war, I have Grandpère outmanned and outgunned.
But that’s an outcome I want to avoid. Despite everything, Grandpère’s organization back in France is the main source of our heroin imports, and his operations remain impeccable.
“I’ll be back soon,” I say, turning on the engine. “I’m going to clear my head.”
Chapter 12
Julien
Idrive away from the house. I can’t stay there a second longer. If I did, I might say or do something rash and stupid out of anger, and I need to keep a clear head if I’m going to get through this crisis.
Grandpère started a war, and now it’s up to me to end it.
I have no real animosity toward Dusan. If I had things my way, we’d keep going as we are now, not exactly on the same side but not enemies either. I find a city with a diverse set of players is actually better for business overall, despite what men like Grandpère might think.
But my personal feelings don’t matter. Dusan wants to destroy me, whether I like it or not, which leaves me with only one option.
I’m in a dark mood as I take a ride around the city. An hour passes as I make plans in my head, but I don’t feel any better. After a while, I find myself riding through Brianne’s neighborhood, almost as if I’ve been circling closer and closer to her house this entire time. I keep thinking about her, about the taste of her back at the wedding ceremony, about my new wife. I shouldn’t have sent her back to her father’s house. I never should’ve let her out of my sight.