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“Exactly. How do you think I became Don?”
“By inheriting from your father.”
“All right, but how do you think I remained Don all these years? Never had anyone challenge me for my position. Not a single assassination attempt and you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I am excellent at reading people. I can tell what they want before they even know it themselves. I manipulate people into giving me what I desire by offering a hint of what they need. I always win. I am the puppet master. If you are to take charge, you must do the same.”
“I’m guessing you gave the same speech to Ernesto?”
“You guessed right. I told him same as I’m telling you. If he can have a child with Julia first, the empire is his.”
“This is your legacy, is it? Having your two sons duke it out? Why not get us to duel with pistols and be done with it?”
“My hands are tied as are yours. You’ve got until he gets her pregnant or I die but if I die first, you lose. Primogeniture wins.”
“You know that means the empire burns. Ernesto isn’t a tenth the businessman I am.”
“Then you better work fast on getting your girl pregnant, hadn’t you?” He breaks into a fresh bout of coughing. When he’s done, he looks weaker than I’ve ever seen him. “I’ll see myself out,” he says, his voice faint.
He gets up, standing bolt upright with some effort on his part. He grimaces as he faces me, pointing a finger my way. “Good night, Hunter.”
I listen to him moving. He’s not as quiet as when he came in, wheezing as he makes his way to the front door. It opens and then closes. I get up at once, crossing to it and slipping the bolt home. He has a key but this way he’s not getting in again without me noticing.
I don’t want him in here while Bex is here. I don’t want her getting wind of his angle on life. She’d run a mile and I wouldn’t blame her.
I get to my feet, feeling suddenly exhausted. I leave my cigar in the ashtray, and then head upstairs. I look in on Alicia. She’s fast asleep, no clue her grandfather is such a bastard. I can’t imagine packing her off to boarding school and never seeing her again.
But what was it Toby said to me? To win I need to get my hands dirty.
My goal is the empire. Once I take over, no one will ever tell me what to do again. The only way to get there is to play the game. Get married to Bex. Get her pregnant.
It’ll be for the best, anyway. She hangs around long enough, she’ll see what kind of person I really am. Then she’ll either hate me as much as Sofia did or she’ll run as far and as fast as she can go. Better this way. Force her away once she bears me a child. Find someone to take care of that child.
Take over.
That’s the goal. Make sure Ernesto doesn’t end up in charge.
I look up, confused. How have I ended up here? I was looking in at Alicia, checking she was asleep. Now I’m outside Bex’s room. I can see a sliver of light under the door. She’s still up.
I push the door open. Steam is billowing out from the bathroom. She’s in the shower. I can hear her humming to herself. That’s a Meatloaf song. Paradise by the Dashboard Light. The one she was singing at that shitty karaoke bar.
That reminds me. Ivanov’s butcher is still in the trunk. I need to go and deal with him. I haven’t got time to spend listening to Bex’s singing.
I cross to the bathroom door, thinking how close she came to dying today. She had no clue that I had her watched on the way to the karaoke bar, just in case. Not the faintest idea I got word that Ivanov’s butcher had come all the way from Moscow to kill her as a warning for me to back out of our business deal.
Luckily for her, my people were watching. I got there in time to find him preparing the hit. Fought like a banshee, he did, but he wasn’t good enough. I got him in the trunk and now Ivanov finds out I’m a man of my word. That memory card will be playing on all the TV networks by the morning and he’ll be in prison or lynched by nightfall tomorrow.
The water turns off, and she steps out, grabbing hold of a towel and wrapping it around herself. She wipes her eyes, turning toward the door and spotting me. She yelps and almost drops the towel. “What are you doing in here?” she asks.
“You should lock your door at night,” I tell her. “You never know who might come in.”
“You know you’ve gone from plain creepy to uber-stalker this evening. What next? Chop me up into little pieces?”
She’s no idea that’s exactly what the butcher had planned, that only me watching her prevented it from happening.
“I have some things you need to know.”
