Page 64 of Loyalty

John had barely been listening.

He just wanted this first meeting over with.

Andino thought the next one would be easier, and so on. Well, John had a whole week to get used to the idea of working with someone from the Calabrese family, and he was still just as disgusted as he had been.

“Actually, it kind of seems like the Calabrese side of things might be getting a longer end of the stick,” John said, “if you know what I mean.”

Darren chuckled. “Come on, now. It’s our warehouse, and most of our streets. Sure, the crew on the Marcello side does a lot of the work with the delivery and distribution of the shit, but—”

“I take it this deal was something to keep your business relevant,” John interjected, cocking a brow before he took a sip of his water. “Am I right?”

“More money is always a good thing.”

“Those streets—Dante handed them over to your family in a deal a few years ago at the Commission meeting, right?”

Darren nodded tightly. “Yeah, and we were owed them, considering the mess that went down between the guys.”

“Except they’re hard streets to work because your people don’t have shit there. It was all built up by Andino’s guys. I know because I used to work those streets with my cousin before I got locked up.”

“Your point, John?”

John flashed a cocky grin. “Nothing, really. Just making it clear why it’s like that. Even if the territory seems like it’s yours, it’s nothing without a Marcello crew backing it.”

Darren sucked in a deep breath.

John smirked inwardly.

It was never good to make problems with someone whom you needed to do business with for the unforeseeable future. However, in this case, John absolutely wanted it clear that between him and Darren, he would always be the fucker coming out on top.

It was what it was.

That was just what Marcellos did.

“Good talk,” John said, standing from the stool. “I’ll be around the warehouse to chat with the guys, if you want to drop by. I’ll leave my number with the girl at the front so you can, uh, give me a call when we have to do this nonsense again, Darren.”

John stuffed his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and headed for the exit of the business. He didn’t make it halfway across the floor before a much larger and more important Calabrese man stepped in his path.

Matteo.

The boss.

And … Siena’s father.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Johnathan Marcello,” Matteo boomed.

Damn, the man was loud.

John gave a laugh, and tried not to let it show his irritation. He shook the boss’s hand because fuck him, even if the boss was one he despised, he couldn’t be rude. It was not the Cosa Nostra way.

Made men did not shun bosses.

“I heard through the grapevine that you’re taking over Andino’s business now that he’s … stepping up, shall we say,” Matteo said.

The man was as wide as a table.

Tall as a fucking tree.

Rings adorned all of his fingers.