Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
As soon as the car stops, I open the door and exit into the heat of the early afternoon. Our midday meeting has tension rolling through my body and when my brothers join me, I give a curt nod. A sign to let them know we’re about to enter. Bringing backup was a good idea, but if Russo sees anything amiss, shit could go down and it won’t be pretty.
Flanked by both Gio and Matteo, we head toward the large warehouse, which has two men standing guard at the entrance. Russo has never been one for subtlety. And his place of business is no different. Both guards open the double doors and when I step inside, Cristiano Russo walks up to me. “Ah, Franco, so good to see you.” He leans in and kisses me on each cheek. The European way.
“I wish I could say the same to you,” I retort hotly, but he chuckles. Turning, he stalks toward the office with four of his guards. The open plan room that is visible from the entrance is where he does all his underhanded deals. It’s not the first time I’ve been here.
As I follow, both Matteo and Gio stay a step behind me, and as we enter the spacious office of my sworn enemy, he turns and offers me a seat. “Your brothers are looking good as well. Sit, please.” He settles in his chair, which looks like a throne. “I want this sorted between us, no bad blood, as they say.” The words sting, and he knows why. He’s the reason I can never forgive myself for the choices I made. For the woman who was killed. I found her in a pool of blood in his bedroom. Not because she chose him, but because she didn’t.
When he kidnapped her, held her against her will for two long months, I tried saving her. I was too late. I live with the guilt to this day. Murder is like passion, like addiction. It’s addictive, but it’s also poison. It can eat you from the inside until there’s nothing left but an empty shell. A person you’ll never recognize. All these years, I’ve allowed the blood of the men I’ve killed course like venom through my veins. The difference is that when I kill, it’s not innocent, unsuspecting victims. They’re all hardened criminals.
Just like me. Just like my family, and just like the man sitting in front of me.
Chucking the contract on his desk, I sit back and watch as he flips through it. All the terms and conditions state that my father owns the territory and the suppliers. No one else can work on this coastline without fear of them being killed.
“This doesn’t work for me.” He sits back, pushing the pages away as if they offend him.
“Like fuck it doesn’t. You’re not getting our region. My father worked long and hard to get the Moretti name all over the West Coast. If you’re looking for land to steal you’ll need to head to the east. I’m not giving you more than what’s in that contract.”
Pushing off the chair, I hear the click before I feel the cold metal poking my back. Guns are drawn. Matteo and Gio have guns on two of his four guards, and Russo’s remaining two thugs have their guns on me. We’ve reached an impasse, but there’s no way I’m stepping down and allowing this piece of filth anywhere near my home or my woman. They can kill me first. The thought of Rai being taken by Russo has rage flaring like a wildfire in my blood, threatening to consume me.
“Make no mistake, Franco, I will get what I want. I always do.” He rises, rounding his desk and closing the distance between us. We’re both the same age, both our fathers’ heirs to the riches they’ve left behind, but only one of us can rule at a time. I took the helm, he stepped back. Now that we’re making more money than they thought was possible, they’re forcing our hand.
Well, fuck it. “Cristiano fucking Russo, listen, and listen well. You’re welcome to shoot me right now, but I’ll never give up, not without a fight. So the only way you’ll get your hands on my father’s deeds is if your boys here put some metal straight into my heart and you let me bleed all over your pretty white carpet.”
“Don’t tempt me, Moretti, I’m not averse to having some red in my life. In fact, I love seeing blood all over my hands. It’s a pity you don’t, always trying to be the good guy.” He chuckles, turning away from me, he gestures with his hand for his men to stand down and they obey.
“There’s nothing wrong with being the good guy. You need to learn your place. If something happens to me, you know they’ll come down on you like a fucking hurricane wiping away everything in its path. And I know the reason you didn’t splatter my brain all over your expensive carpet is because you know it as well as I do. Your fancy lifestyle here in the US will be a thing of the past, and you know why? Because respect is earned, not bought.”