It was just the two of us—alone.
Santino closed the door behind him.
Don Russo continued to stare at me across the large room, far too big for an office, more like a small ballroom. “Thank you for coming.”
I took a few steps forward, approaching the seating area with the couches and tables on the enormous hearth rug. “That’s quite the change in attitude.” I smirked. “What was the last thing you said to me, Don?” I asked as I cocked my head. “Do you remember?”
He remained still, his dark eyes not reacting to the provocation.
“No?” I cocked my head the other way as my grin widened. “Then let me enlighten you.” I took more steps forward until I was in the center of the room, still a great distance from him. “You said if we crossed paths again, you would carve me into strips of meat for a charcuterie board…”
His face remained blank as if I hadn’t said anything at all.
I moved farther forward, passing through the seating area until we were twelve feet apart. “And feed me to the hounds.”
His espresso-colored eyes didn’t blink. He didn’t draw a breath. A man I’d known my whole life looked at me like I was a stranger.
“You asked me to come all the way out here to gaslight me with your silence?” I raised my voice slightly, my impatience starting to bleed through. “At least offer me a drink, asshole.”
He finally pushed off the desk and straightened, two decades older than me but still fit and strong. He didn’t participate in drops or deals or combat, but he maintained his physical superiority in the gym. “What would you like?”
“The usual,” I said coldly. “Unless you’ve already forgotten…”
He walked to his private wet bar and turned his back to me—a gesture of trust—and made two drinks.
I stared at the back of his head and listened to the ice cubes clink against the glasses and then the twist of the bottle cap when he opened the whiskey. He made two old-fashioneds, added slices of orange and bitters, and then turned around to face me.
He stepped toward me, coming the closest he’d been since before I left, close enough for me to slip my blade between his ribs.
The guys hadn’t patted me down, so he knew I was armed.
He was definitely trying to kiss my ass.
He held the drink out to me, and it hung there for a second.
With my eyes locked on his, I took it. Raised it in a gesture of gratitude before I took a sip.
He took a drink of his as he stared at me. Then he nodded to the couch before he moved to take a seat.
I sat across from him, elbows on my thighs, holding the glass by the rim against the inside of my knee.
He took another drink before he set it on the black marble coaster on the table.
I stared him down like an enemy, because as far as I was concerned, we still were.
“I appreciate your coming today?—”
“Say your piece, Don. I’m a busy man.”
He gave a slight nod as he swallowed his pride. If anyone else spoke to him like that, they’d have a bullet between the eyes. “We halted the trafficking operation that you objected to.”
I waited for more, and when nothing was forthcoming, I took a drink. “Okay.”
“I should have honored your wishes. I acted rashly?—”
“Business not doing too good?” I asked with a smirk. “No surprise there. Who wants to fuck a drugged-up prisoner? Actually, fuck isn’t the right verb.Rape.Who wants torapea high prisoner?”
He held my stare without a hint of remorse.
