Page 63 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

Darren’s gaze flashed with something unknown, and John took that as a point to his favor. “Yes, well, sit. We can discuss how Andino and I have managed to have parts of our crews working together, and whatever else.”

“He filled me in on some of the details.”

“But not all, huh?”

John shrugged, and took a seat on an open barstool. “Better to jump right into it, I think.”

“Sure.”

John waved for the bartender, and asked for a water. Once he had the glass in front of him, he used it as a distraction to keep his attention focused rather than looking at Darren Calabrese. The longer he was near one of the Calabrese men, the more his old bitterness and rage grew.

It had never really gone away.

Not since he learned the truth about why their two families didn’t have a lot to do with each other. He had been, oh, thirteen or so at the time when his father finally told him everything.

John thought he was a Marcello through and through.

Their blood ran through his veins.

The truth was dirtier—his father, the product of an affair with a goomah, had been the son of a murdered man. His biological grandfather, Johnathan Grovatti. And his great-grandfather, the former boss of one of New York’s most powerful crime families, had been taken out because of greed, and nothing more.

By a bunch of Calabrese bastards.

John was still a Marcello, sure. In thought and mind, in body and spirit, he was every inch a fucking Marcello man. He spoke like them, lived like them, and was them.

But he knew now that he also had Grovatti blood keeping him alive. A whole family that had been wiped out without a thought or care.

So was the way of their life.

Or it was supposed to be.

That kind of shit was hard to let go.

So, when Darren spoke about a friendship between them, and good business, it made John’s fucking skin crawl. It took every ounce of effort he had, all of his control, not to reach over and choke the life out of the cocksucker.

“What do you think, John?” Darren asked. “Is the deal up to spec with you?”

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?”