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Sam weaves a knife back and forth between his fingers. “He does have sharper canines than me,” he comments.
“Let's get down to business,” Romeo says in a bored tone. “Joey, why did you call for this meeting?”
Joey puffs up his chest. “Wanted to deliver the news in person: I’m the boss of Philly.”
“Interesting,” Romeo comments. “Because last I heard, two of your capos are claiming the title.”
Joey smirks. “You fucking heard wrong.”
“Very well. Since you’re Philly’s boss, I’ll go ahead and air Jersey’s grievances,” Romeo says matter-of-factly. “Philly killed our former boss, and we have every right to seek retribution.”
He snorts a laugh. “Says the man who sent our former boss back to us in a box.”
“A courtesy Carlo didn’t deserve,” Romeo counters. “He conspired with one of our capos to take out our boss—a fucking act of war.”
Joey shrugs. “So you say. Funny how you were the only witness to these supposed events.”
Romeo smiles; Joey has no idea he’s on thin ice. “So I know. You want to go the way of Crazy Carlo, be my guest.”
“That a threat?” Joey balks.
“Not a threat, but a fact,” Romeo promises.
“Very well. Now let me educate you on a few facts. My friends in New York are very concerned with the way Jersey’s been handling business, and this is how things are gonna play out: you’re going to honor the previous trade agreement between our territories, and we might not seek retribution for the murder of our boss. If you don’t, then we go to war. You’ll lose, New York and Philly will split your territory, and I’ll take your little sister.” His lips curl into a smile. “I’ve heard she’s hot as hell.”
Romeo laughs, and I have to fight the urge to shirk back a few steps. “I didn’t realize you were New York’s little messaggero, thanks for educating me.” He makes a shooting motion with his index finger and thumb.
Shots ring out, and the guards surrounding Joey crumble to the floor; clean headshots.
“Engage,” Romeo commands, and his dog charges and lunges for Joey, knocking the small man over.
Joey screams and thrashes as the dog mauls his face.
“Any trade agreements between Carlo and Antonio are null and void,” Romeo loudly declares while the dog goes to town, using Joey as a chew toy. “You want to come to the negotiating table in good faith, I might consider another meeting with you. If you survive.”
The Doberman sinks his teeth into Joey’s neck, shaking his head back and forth violently as the man screams in agony.
“Not looking like Joey’s gonna get that second meeting,” Sam comments loudly over the man’s wailing. No, it doesn’t.
“Mercutio, disengage,” Romeo calls in an assertive tone.
The dog releases its hold, and blood squirts like a fountain from Joey’s shredded neck. The man futilely places his hands over the gaping hole before his eyes roll back in his head and his body goes limp, all the while the dog’s circling the corpse with a snarl.
“Mercutio, heel.” The dog runs over to Romeo’s side and has a seat; his brown and black coat painted in crimson. “Good boy.” Romeo smiles. “You need a bath.”
The dog whines.
“Not fucking volunteering for the job after watching him rip a man’s throat out.” Sam shudders. He pulls out bug-sweep equipment from a duffel bag, clumsily turning it on. “I’m declaring Luca’s little convalescence over; I hate this tedious shit.” He scans the bodies to ensure no one’s sending out a signal before giving the thumbs up.
“Sam, I want Valentina’s security detail increased,” Romeo orders.
“Fuck. She’s going to poison my coffee,” Sam grumbles.
“Fabio, give Sammy some pointers.” Darius appears beside me, and I fist bump him.
“I need to get back in the range with you. Nice headshots.”
“He didn’t fuck it up too bad, I guess,” Sam says, picking his nails with his knife.
