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Epilogue
JULIAN
“Why are we meeting in a diner?” the man before me grumbles, looking around at the 1950s themed decor with disgust. I like it, I think it’s quirky, just like its owner.
I look around, taking in the empty booths. It’s quiet this morning, which is perfect for what we’re about to discuss. I sip on my coffee and smile at the beautiful blonde behind the counter. “Because this is where they have the best coffee and walnut cake.”
He grunts, “I didn’t come here for cake Julian. I want what is rightfully mine, I want that factory down by the river.”
Even after six months I was still coming across the occasional shithead who thought I owed him everything. The Family was revamped, things were still in progress but now everything was shared fairly and rewards were given for hard work. It was more like a real family every passing day as we did our best to foster an inclusive sense of community within the organization but men like Carl DeLuca still just did what they pleased. And I couldn’t allow that.
“The one you stole in the aftermath of the Bruno deaths, you mean?” I ask firmly, finding it ironic that those who had demanded justice for Antonio had also been the ones to squabble over his properties and businesses.
He shrugs, avoiding my gaze. “I didn’t steal it; I just seized an opportunity…”
“To steal from me,” I finish for him with a hard stare. “So, I’ve taken it back and it will be re-distributed fairly.”
Slamming a hand down on the table he raises his voice, “This is bullshit, fucking bullshit.”
I raise my hand in an attempt to calm him, while keeping my voice level I reiterate what he has been told before. “Carl, I’ve given you several warnings about this and I’ve told you to remove your men from the property. You’ve been amply warned.”
“Because it’s mine you fucking prick!” he bellows.
“Excuse me,” Rosie’s soft voice calls. “This is your first warning.”
“Fuck you,” he screams, flipping her off before turning back to me. “This Family is fucked and you’re just dragging it down! You piece of shit.”
I say nothing as he stands, shouting about “Fucking autocratic bullshit.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I warn as Carl reaches into his jacket for his gun. His eyes are focused on one of my new bodyguards, who’s sitting in the booth behind me since Eli is away investigating The Cartel for me, not realizing that he’s not the threat here.
His lips twist into a snarl. “Fuck yo—”
The words die in the air as blood begins to trickle from the corner of his mouth.
“Esme, clean up on table three!” Rosie shouts as she drops Carl’s body to the floor, her blade protruding from his ribcage. She may not carve out chests anymore, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t an expert at getting her knife right in the sweet spot.
“Cato, add the DeLuca estates to the re-distribution lists,” I call over to my assistant who’s been sitting at the counter, and they take out their phone to make the necessary arrangements.
“I did warn him,” Rosie says sweetly as she slides onto my lap, her hands coming around my neck.
“You did,” I agree as I kiss my Queen of Hearts, ignoring the body by our feet.
A few moments later Cato’s phone rings, their face shifts into an expression of panic as they turn towards us.
“What’s the matter?” Rosie asks as we both stand.
“It’s Creed,” Cato’s voice trembles. “Elijah’s been arrested. They’re sending him to Ogmore Grange. Judge Walters signed the paperwork an hour ago.”
