Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“They here?” I ask.
“Inside, boss.”
Allessio walks in front of me, his tatted arms at his sides like he’s ready for a fight. Most born-and-bred mafiosi don’t have tattoos, but Allessio wasn’t always part of the mob. In his late teens, he went to live overseas, working security and as a bouncer all over Europe as he traveled, painting his adventures on his skin.
Allessio always enters any room before I do. “If they try something, let them hit me first …” He’s the most loyal man I know.
The bar is thick with cigarette smoke and the smell of whiskey. Vincenzo is waiting for us at the far table. Several of his men are dotted around the room, and several of mine are, too. Nobody would be stupid enough to try anything here unless they are willing to sacrifice their lives.
Vincenzo stands, a tall, imposing man around my age, his hair completely gray, his eyes just as calculating as Paolo’s. He’s on the leaner side, giving him a hungry look, which is fitting. The Romanos have wanted to take what we’ve built for a long time.
“Dario,” he says, smiling and offering his hands.
“Vinnie,” I reply, pretending we’re best buddies as we shake.
“I hope the traffic wasn’t too bad.”
“This city. You know how it is. Shall we talk in private?”
A flicker of fear touches his features, though he tries to hide it. I sense his men tensing up all around me. Reaching into my pocket, I take out my piece, eject the bullet in the chamber, catch it, and then remove the magazine. I place it all on the table. Vincenzo does the same. “Sure.”
I head into the back room. He follows. It’s a power move my father taught me when I was a boy. “If you want to show a man that he isn’t a threat to you, turn your back on him. It’s the ultimate sign of disrespect.”
In the back of the bar, there’s a meeting room, almost like a police interrogation room. It’s a simple layout with a table and two chairs. We sit opposite each other. Vincenzo taps his fingernail against the table, the speed of the tap-tap-tap noise increasing the longer I remain silent.
“You trying to keep me in suspense?” he says.
I smirk. “Why are you nervous?”
“Nervous?” He drops his hand under the table, probably because it’s the only way he can stop the tapping. “I see why you brought me back here now. You didn’t want to disrespect me in front of my men. How courteous of you.”
“Whereas you are content with disrespecting the Morettis in front of the entire city.”
He narrows his analyzing eyes. “Am I missing something?”
“Have you ever heard of Paths of Promise Foundation?”
He swallows. “That’s your pet project, isn’t it? Your charity? It’s a great thing, Dario. Helping underprivileged youth to find a way out of the ghettos and the crack houses, helping them get away from the abuse they’re suffering. Of course, I’ve heard of it. It’s one hell of a thing.”
I lean forward, leaning my elbows on the table and glaring at him. Anger pumps through me, reminding me of who I am. I’m not the man having flirtatious banter with a young actress. I’m this—the man who makes people cringe away and inspires fear. It’s all I’ll ever be.
“Do I look like a fucking idiot to you?”
“Whoa, Dario—”
“You’ve been blackmailing one of my accountants,” I say flatly. “For three weeks, you’ve been laundering money through the foundation. You’ve already laundered almost ten thousand dollars. Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out about this? Did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice a sudden influx of donations from a shell company belonging to you? Or maybe you just counted on me not giving a damn about the foundation.”
Vincenzo keeps his expression neutral, but I can see the cogs turning as he tries to figure out if he can lie.
“The company belongs to you, specifically,” I growl. “Remember that before you try to tell me you had no idea. You made a mistake. If you wanted plausible deniability, you should’ve had your consigliere establish the company.”
Finally, he sighs. “It was nothing personal. The charity’s office is in the ideal location. We saw a chance, and we took it. We would’ve done the same, even if it didn’t belong to you.”
“But it does belong to me. Many men in my position would see this as a declaration of war.”
He swallows again. “Do you?”
“I see you as a man punching way above his pay grade. I see you as a man who will get himself and his Family in trouble.”
“Careful,” Vincenzo says.
I laugh in his face. Telling me to be careful after he put one of the only bright spots in this city at risk. “Am I supposed to take that seriously?”
“I can’t sit here and allow you to disrespect my Family,” he grumbles.