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“Here.” I think to the mayor’s ball I was dragged to against my will. To the two women inside the elevator. One offered me a mini quiche because I was starving and running on empty. “You were standing with Detective Asa in the elevator.”
“Yes. And you can call me Ellie,” she cuts in, even when her audience grows restless with mumbled disagreements. “Because Sophie trusts you.”
“Soph—” My brows come closer together. “Sophie?”
“That’s me,” Detective Asa’s voice comes again. “Sophia Solomon. You screw either one of us over, and my threat becomes something you no longer need to think about…” Silence hangs for a beat, then, “You’ll be too dead to care.”
“What is it you need?” Ellie asks again. “What’s the issue in New York?”
“My husband is Archer Malone,” I sigh. “OfthoseMalones. I’m not happy about it, but there it is. The heart wants what the heart wants.”
“Which makes you either our ally,” Sophia grumbles. “Or our enemy. Depends where the Malones fall on the totem pole.”
“Well, it’s the totem pole I’d like to discuss, actually. Malones are having trouble with Pastores. Pastore wanted to bang Michelle. Michelle is now on the phone with me, and it was common knowledge that Cordoza,”the godfather, Aubree’s voice plays in my mind, “protected Michelle. So seeing as how you’re the only person I know who was on the inside of that mess, what the hell do I do about the issue between my husband and Emilio Pastore?”
“You don’t accept it as your problem,” a man’s voice rumbles through the line. It’s dark, deep, and sends goosebumps skittering along my spine. “Kane Bishop,” he says before I have to ask. “And if your man has beef with someone else, that beef is his to deal with. Not yours.”
“Right,” I say dryly. Another male who works only with his ego.Excellent. “But my husband is in New York right now, walking toward that beef without consideration for the danger it involves. I’d rather Ellie told me how we deal with this without bloodshed. Performing an autopsy on anyone with the last name Malone isn’t really something I want to do.”
“What’s Pastore’s problem?” Ellie asks. She speaks before Kane can, which results in another round of dissatisfied grumbling on her end of the line. “Specifically.”
“Um…” Warmth colors my cheeks. “When your, uh, father was being arrested and killed, and at the same time, Emilio Pastore was arrested, the Malones made a somewhat unilateral move and swept up some of the business each of those families dropped.”
“Ballsy move,” another guy on Ellie’s side of the call chuckles. “So you’re saying the Malone family’s britches got a little big, now they’re fumbling what they stole and have found themselves in a little trouble?”
“That may be so,” I concede. “But my husband wasn’t one of those Malones. He has four brothers, and a father who lacks any sense of right or wrong. It was his father who pissed Pastore off, but now it’s one of his brothers who is paying the price. Archer has gone to New York to resolve the situation, but it would be naïve of me to assume Emilio Pastore will just… hand Micah Malone back.”
“He won’t,” Ellie agrees. “Emilio is a proud man. He lost a lot when he was arrested.”
“Not enough,” Sophia bites out. “He should still be in prison.”
“I mean, at this point, every single person on this call, plus those families in New York, should be in prison, right?” A soft snicker rolls along my throat. “We’re all complicit in these crimes.”
“We don’t go to prison,” Sophia snaps. “We’re too smart for that shit, and word on the street is they don’t serve candy for breakfast.No bueno. What exactly do you want from Ellie?”
“Guidance?” I shrug. “A clue? What needs to happen to bring things back into balance?”
“Someone has to kill someone else.” Ellie speaks so easily, so matter-of-factly, that my blood runs cold. “Malone kills Pastore, or Pastore kills Malone.”
“Not an option,” I snarl. “What else is there?”
“Peace,” she answers. “Malones initiate peace talks, take a smack on the chin, and make Pastore feel in power again.”
“So… Archer and his brothers have to say sorry?”
She laughs. “So to speak. In New York, the totem pole is very real. Very literal. Straight up and down. Estefan Cordoza is comfortable at the top; he’s not going to be shaken or usurped. But the others, Timothy Malone and Emilio Pastore, are constantly fighting for the second spot. They cannot both sit there. For the last year, Tim has held that spot and Emilio has been stewing. I might’ve left the city and dropped the Mancino name, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t kept an eye on things. Emilio has had a long time to plot his comeback, and from what I’ve heard, Old Man Tim isn’t feeling too strong. Now Emilio’s made his own unilateral move by hurting Micah Malone. So your man either goes in and takes back his place at the top of the pole, or he sits down and eats crow.”
“And the eating crow…” I worry. “That won’t be as simple as a sorry, right?”
“No. It’s gonna come with collateral damage. Emilio will need to prove his dominance, which means he’ll kill Micah. He’ll probably attack businesses the Malones control, streets they work, that sort of thing. He was disrespected—not only by the Malones themselves, but by the suppliers and buyers who jumped ship and transferred their loyalties.”
“So eating crow isn’t an option either,” I groan. For every minute this conversation goes on, the heavier my stomach feels. “If they sit down and take third place, people will die.”
“Yes.” So cold. So easy. “Folks will die. Some will be innocents. Others will be Malones.”
“Sounds like your boy scout has a problem,” Kane arrogantly interjects. “This is what happens when fathers go rogue and fuck over their sons. Old man Tim Malone is on his way out, but the mess remains, and his boys are gonna die cleaning it up.”
“Did they consider killing their old man?” another voice. Another guy. “If it was their father who fucked Pastore over, then maybe they should off their own blood and show New York they don’t stand behind what he did.”
