Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“What do you think happened?” Dean asked.
“I don’t know. That’s why I went there.”
“In a three-piece suit?” Loren eyed me suspiciously.
“I wanted to get a real reaction out of the people who were used to seeing him.”
“How’d that work out for you?” Rocco asked.
I sat back in my chair with a scowl. What was I supposed to say? That Rosie slapped me and I stood there and took it — when in reality I wanted to grab her by the wrist, turn her around, and push her tits against that wall so I could play out all of my teenage fantasies? Fuck. I ran a hand over my face. Everything in my life was finally coming together. Even if Gabe was safe, an appearance from Roselyn Vega was the last thing I needed right now. The last nine months had been a whirlwind for all of us with all of the changes that transpired. The men in this room were now the bosses of organized crime. At the top of the food chain, which was something we’d all wanted, but now we had to do the work to make sure things continued going according to plan. I couldn’t afford any distractions right now, and Rosie was the ultimate distraction.
“Maybe he’s on a trip and lost his phone,” Gio said.
“If that’s the case, why would he leave that voice message?” I pointed at my phone, sitting at the center of the table.
“I’ll get the camera feed,” Dean said, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray as he stood. He paused and looked at Rocco. “Was the issue with the Colombians taken care of?”
“I think so. Ferreira didn’t specify who he’s getting his cargo from, but he doesn’t seem to be a threat.”
Dean looked at Gio. “What do your cousins say about Ferreira?”
“They say he’s a businessman. Fair.” He shrugged. “It may not be a terrible idea to build a relationship there if we’d have more access to Colombia. For the coffee, not the coke,” he specified.
“Got it.” Rocco gave a nod. My mind drifted back to my brother, to Rosie, to the incredibly weird situation I was finding myself in right now.
“You good, Dom?” The question came from Loren.
“Yeah.” No, I fucking wasn’t.
“Who else does Gabe do accounting for?” Loren asked.
“A lot of people, including the Costellos.”
“Tommy’s the brains behind that operation,” Gio said. “Does he know you’re Gabe’s brother?”
“I mean . . .” I let out a short laugh. There were a lot of differences between me and my brother. I was an inch taller, full of tattoos, and had about twenty pounds of muscle on him, but to someone who didn’t really pay attention, we looked identical. “Unless he’s a complete moron, he’d put two and two together.”
Gio shot Dean and Loren a look and I knew what they were thinking. After Gio killed Silvio Costello, Tommy, who was next in line, had risen to the head of the family, and word on the street was that he was out for blood, specifically ours. Tommy himself never lifted a finger, but like Gio said, he was the brains of the operation. If anyone got their hands dirty, it would be Anthony Costello, the youngest brother, and we’d ramped up security just in case. If they wanted to get to me, though, all they had to do was fuck with my brother. Gabe could take care of himself, but he’d been coddled by all of us, myself included, and didn’t know how to handle people like the Costellos.
“We fucked up their businesses, took over all the seats,” Gio said. “And Tommy hates Angelo Costello.”
“Tommy doesn’t like Angelo?” My brows shot up.
Angelo Costello was the boss of all bosses, the head honcho if you will. He also happened to be Lorenzo’s father and related to Tommy and Anthony. Technically, Lorenzo having a seat meant that the Costello family in the U.S. was headed by him. They’d worked out some kind of deal with Tommy since Silvio had the seat originally. Technically, Tommy was next in line, but he wasn’t Angelo Costello’s son. Lorenzo was. That made him more important than just about anyone in the western hemisphere. If we were going based off of our last names and our families back in Italy, Dean would be number one, Lorenzo would be second, I’d be third, Rocco would be fourth and Gio would be last. Because we followed Italian-American rules, that wasn’t the case. We also had too much respect for each other to count anyone out and didn’t want to step on each other’s toes. Our fathers may have said they were brothers, but that was all talk. The five of us were brothers despite hierarchy and last names. We wanted to make this an organization that we could be proud of, that our kids could hold on to after we were gone. This wasn’t just business to us. It was family. Legacy.