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“Friends,” he scoffs. “Family. They’re all just weaknesses that weigh you down. A strong don doesn’t let petty concerns like that get in the way of a viable alliance. A mutually beneficial alliance.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re going somewhere with this?”
“I’ll be straight with you: I was angry after the wedding. You duped me. You sold me a pot of shit after promising me gold. I thought allying myself with the Irish would satiate my need for revenge.”
“Let me guess: you got tired of the Irish dogs?”
His snort is all the confirmation I need. “They’re fickle and superstitious and they’re not half as capable as they pretend to be. I’m done with them. I’m ready to put this whole ordeal behind us.”
“Are you now?” I ask with amusement. “And what makes you think I’m interested in putting this whole ordeal behind us?”
“Because you have a new family to think of,” he simpers. “You have a pretty new wife and a precious little bundle of joy on the way, I hear. Do you really want to be looking over your shoulder every time you step out of that palatial penthouse you call home?”
I say nothing. If he wants to threaten me, he can do it without my help.
“Come meet me tonight at Soling House. Bring your men if you don’t feel safe. We have much to discuss.”
The line goes dead. I turn to find Aleks staring at me with his mouth open. “Do not tell me you just agreed to a fucking meeting with that psychotic asshole.”
“He wants to renew our alliance.”
“And you’re going there just to… spit in his face?”
“I’m going there to make him think I’m agreeable. And just when he gets comfortable… that’s when I blow his fucking brains out.”
“Brother, this is a risky plan.”
I nod. “It is. But I’m done playing it safe. My son is due any day now and I want this shit over soon. If I can cut the snake off at the head, it’s over. The war will be won.”
“Dmitri—”
“I know the risks, little brother, and I’ve decided they’re worth taking.” I walk up to him and tap his cheek gently a few times. He opens his mouth to counter, but I shut him up with a raised hand. “It’s not up for discussion. I’ve made my decision. My son will be born into a world ready for him. I’ll die if that’s what it takes to make that happen.”
38
DMITRI
Soling House.
Like a speakeasy fucked a country club and spat out this gaudy monstrosity. It’s all polished bronze and cigar smoke, a shady place with shady corners for shady people to conduct shady business.
It’s no surprise that Vittorio owns a stake in it.
It’s no surprise that it’s quiet when I drive up, either. This is not the sort of venue where men like to be seen. They slip in and out, slimy enough to leave ooze in their wake.
I don’t plan to be here for a second longer than I have to be.
Aleks is the only one in the car with me, though two more vehicles full of Bratva men trail behind us. The streetlights are out—whether that’s a coincidence or not, it’s impossible to say, though I’m not the kind of man who believes in such things—which means the moon is the sole source of illumination.
“Something doesn’t smell right,” Aleks mutters as I cut the engine.
“It’s Vittorio,” I point out. “Nothing with him ever smells right.”
“This is a trap.”
“I’m aware.”
Aleks twists in his seat to give me an incredulous look. “And you still insist on walking in there alone? You always call me the dumb one, but lately, man, I dunno…”
