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“I have contacts,” was all Giulio said. “They only work with me. If you want access to this, it has to be through me.”
“And I am supposed to believe you? Un niño?” A boy. All the men chuckled.
“Do you like money, Señor Martinez? Because I do. And if you aren’t interested in making it, there are four other men on my list. I know for certain the Bratva will say yes. Do you know what happens then?” He paused and stared Alligator Boots down. “Me and the Russians run you out of fucking business.”
Madre di dio. A dark thrill skated along my spine. Giulio had balls standing up to these men.
I was impressed.
“What if I just kill you and save myself the trouble?” Señor Martinez asked.
“Then my people will go to the Bratva and you’ll still be out of business.”
“People?” Señor Martinez looked around dramatically, his voice laced with sarcasm. “What other people?”
Now it was Giulio’s turn to sneer. “Do you think I have the coca plants in my cellar? That I’m growing them, soaking the leaves and grinding them up myself? My people do this—and trust me. You do not want to fuck around with them or me.”
Che palle. This display of power, it was astounding. I could feel my groin tighten as lust thickened my dick. I reached down to shift myself in my jeans.
Señor Martinez rubbed his jaw. “How much can you get?”
“Twenty kilos today.”
“How cheap?”
“One million Euros.”
Señor Martinez cocked his head. “For all of it?”
“Yes. I know you normally pay significantly more. So I’ll expect all of it up front in cash. Right now.”
Señor Martinez nodded once and beckoned to a man in the back of the group. The associate came forward and put a briefcase on the table next to the coke. Stacks of cash were inside, and Señor Martinez counted out the amount Giulio quoted.
Giulio retrieved a duffle bag off the floor, then stuffed the cash inside. “There’s a loose floorboard in the back left corner. Pull up those boards and your coke is all there.”
Señor Martinez sent three men over, and they quickly removed the boards. Then they counted the packages. “It’s all here,” one of them shouted.
Señor Martinez said to Giulio, “If this does well, when can we—”
But Giulio had already disappeared, along with the cash. The package was still on the table.
A smile tugged at my lips. Cazzo, I liked this man. He was crafty and resourceful. Brave. The rumors I heard of his father were much the same, with a touch of a psychotic murderer sprinkled in. But I didn’t know Giulio had it in him, too.
I hurried back the way I came. Soon I saw Giulio striding up the walk. I kept my head down and moved to the opposite side of the street. This allowed me to track him in the store windows rather than looking directly at him. He checked over his shoulders several times, but Señor Martinez and his men hadn’t trailed him.
Smoothly, he removed his baseball cap and unzipped the duffle bag. Inside was a backpack, which obviously held all the money. He dropped the empty duffle and his cap in a bin, then hefted the backpack over his shoulders. “Idiots,” he said with a sly grin.
Fuck me. This twenty-two-year-old was carrying a million Euros on his back.
Colpo di fulmine.
I rubbed my chest and tried to ease the ache there. I hadn’t felt this much attraction to another person in a long time. Maybe ever. I didn’t understand it. He and I had never met, yet I was drawn to him. I wanted to bite his hard jaw and feel his rough hands on my dick.
He went into his apartment. Currently I was renting the place across the street, but I had no interest in watching him hide the money inside. I’d rather wait here in case he came back out. I hoped he felt the need to celebrate tonight.
Because that I wanted to see.
I’ll kill him eventually… but I didn’t have to do it tonight.
