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In my own time, I answer his question. I was always going to, but on my own terms. “We have a witness who gave a pretty accurate description of Vito Rossi.”
“The fucking Viper. I suspected this all pointed in his direction,” Darian spits the name as if he finds it distasteful. It’s good to know we at least have that one sentiment in common.
I flick a glance at Million, who’s taking everything in like he’s watching a game of ping-pong.
“I heard what he did to your woman. Ublyudok! Is it true you took his bride in retaliation?”
I look around at the men at the table and the others who form their protection, inwardly smiling at the Russian curse, bastard, which I recognize. Still, Niko should know better than to think I’d admit to such a thing in front of so many. Especially a newcomer who I’ve yet to get the measure of.
My non-response is suitably ambiguous. “Well, if you don’t have her, and neither does Million, then I guess that narrows the field.” He can read between the lines however he likes, but I suspect he already knows the answer from his wife. I find it unlikely Lyah hasn’t mentioned Maricela’s presence at Ár n-áit, even if my brother has remained tight-lipped in his involvement with Darian.
“What do you think he’s after?” Million asks, changing the subject. “If this is truly unexpected, then what’s his motive?”
I bristle at the assumption that we must have done something to provoke the Viper. Feeling Callum stiffen next to me, I know he feels the same.
I view this Johnny-come-lately coolly but allow my twin to respond and flex his own leadership muscles. “As far as we can guess, he’s after our port and docking advantage. Things have changed since our Da headed the Irish Mafia. Ciaran and I do things differently. There are certain… shipments we refuse to dabble in, even if it's only to provide passage.”
Million nods his head, sagely. I guess he’s deducing the lay of the land, but all he says is, “I see.”
I don’t know if he does or not, but it’s good he understands the extent of our power in this game. Outsiders always think the Famiglia is the be-all and end-all, but that’s not the case.
They’re strong, all right, but there are several areas where we surpass them. The Bratva too. We each have our own lane, an area where we excel, and we aim to keep it that way, though sometimes, like a highway, they run alongside each other. And we do our best not to intentionally step on any toes. Well, as much as is possible. As with any rivalry, there’s a certain element of competition, but in general, we stick to our own territories, respect the others’ boundaries, and avoid crossing each other.
“So, since me and my family are new in town, which of you fine gentlemen is going to show my daughter, Catriona, around? She doesn’t know anyone and needs to make her own contacts,” Million looks between the four of us, his eyebrows raised in unsubtle expectation.
Callum and Darian look at each other then immediately look away, their identical responses almost comical, before Nikolai breaches what might have become an awkward silence. “Well, I’m married, I’m afraid. I don’t think my wife would take too kindly to me stepping out with another woman.”
There’s a light chortle of laughter around the table, and I cringe inside because I know it’s going to feckin’ be me since Callum is stoically looking the other way and holding his tongue. He dates plenty of women, and as far as I know, Darian does too. But I guess neither of them are going to offer in front of their lover, no matter how secret their relationship is. I could almost respect the pair of them for their consideration, if it didn’t mean it was going to fall to me.
The last thing I want is to babysit some air-headed friggin’ socialite, but I know how the game is played, so I offer accordingly, while Million looks far too bloody smug about it.
But Callum’s going to get a wake-up call soon. Perhaps it’s time to call him out on his predilections if I’m always going to be the one who’s forced to volunteer as tribute.
Chapter Nineteen
CIARAN
There’s a commotion echoing through the rooms and corridors when we return from our meeting with the Radaevas and I’m still sore about Cal standing by while Million set me up with his feckin’ daughter.
Never mind the newly acquired knowledge that the Bratva have been having the exact same issues as we have.
A coup on both of us by the Cosa Nostra is a serious turn of events, something that needs careful thought and a methodical, coordinated approach to dealing with it.
If it was an attempt to turn our two factions against each other, it was clumsy, but it still worries me that if it weren’t for the mitigating factors of Róisín’s long-term friendship with Emylyah, things might have gone that way. I’m certain neither side can honestly say the thought of a double-cross hasn’t crossed everyone’s mind.
Knowing the truth is a relief for us all, but we still need to tread carefully though, because the Radaevas’ sources claim Vito is working alone in this, without the backing - possibly without the knowledge - of the rest of the Cosa Nostra.
Even so, it doesn’t mean the whole organization won’t come down on us if we mount any kind of retaliation. The guys we’ve roughed up so far don’t really count. They’re just regular people who have been coerced into doing the Viper’s dirty work rather than bona fide members of his organization.
Although it’s treading a thin line, as things currently stand, Maricela is nothing more than a bargaining chip.
An accepted currency after the Viper drew first blood.
That might be considered a crass way to look at things, but it’s the truth of the matter.
Right now, there's no time to consider the implications of that since it's clear I have to deal with a disturbance that's way closer to home. Right in my own compound, in fact.
Callum and I share a look, and both of us grab our handguns as we prowl cautiously towards the sounds of shouting.
