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“Not with you burning his shit down. Don't you get it?” He barks out a laugh. “He's going to start getting desperate. He'll want all the help he can get. You just made things easier for me. I can almost feel the wedding band around my finger.”
“And once Jack thinks he can use your money and your men to fight us, then what happens?”
He lifts a shoulder. “It'll be a disappointing day for him, won't it? And if he threatens to hurt me for crossing him, I'll remind him of the pretty, soft, luscious girl he handed over to me. It would be a real shame if anything happened to her, wouldn't it?”
“Would you follow through on that?” I murmur, watching him closely.
“By then, she'll be mine,” he reminds me with a sigh. “Mine to do whatever I want with.”
“And if he never agrees?” I ask even though I know the response.
“Then I'll take her anyway. I'd rather do things properly, with her father's blessing and all.” His lips twitch in cold humor. “But desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“You can be a fucking psycho on your own,” Romero fires back, and Sebastian only blurts out a laugh. I don't approve of the choice of language, yet considering the unhinged note in his laughter, he might not be far off the mark. “But that's not how we do business.”
Sebastian looks Romero up and down, wearing a cocky grin. “What are you going to do about it? Come and huff and puff and blowmyhouse down this time? Warning you now, it won't end well for you.”
“You think? You're so fucking green, your balls have barely dropped,” Romero growls. “Mr. Torrio here has gone out of his way to be respectful towards you, but I don't owe you shit.”
“You think so?” Sebastian takes a step toward him, shoulders thrown back like the cocky, insolent little prick he is.
Romero mimics his posture, taking a step of his own. “I know so.”
“Maybe we should take this outside.”
“Nothing would give me more pleasure.” Romero slips off his suit jacket, tossing it on the chair Sebastian left vacant. He starts undoing the buttons of his shirt and rolling up the sleeves on his forearms. “I've been thinking for a while now about kicking your ass since clearly you need a lesson in respect.”
“Alright, that's enough.” Before they can leave the office and do something truly stupid, I step between them. “You're not fighting each other. This isn't a goddamn middle school playground or a pissing contest.”
Sebastian snorts, leading me to turn his way. “Don't eyeball me like that,” I growl, and it's gratifying to watch him fall back a step instead of glaring at me like he was. It's time to set him straight on a few things—maybe past time. “There's no negotiating. I want nothing to do with bringing innocent girls into this. Dominic is fair game since he's part of the life—same thing with their crew. Nonetheless, we do not involve women or children. End of story.”
“That's where we differ.”
“Your old man wouldn't have done it this way, either.”
Something close to frustration crosses his face before he wipes it away, lifting his chin. “I'm not my old man, am I?” There's a silent challenge in that question. For all his swagger and bravado, what he wants most is to prove himself. It's clear as day.
Behind me, Romero snorts. “That's an understatement.”
“Fuck off,” Sebastian snarls, lunging forward until the hand I place against his chest holds him still. He might chomp at the bit to take a swing at Romero, but he's not stupid enough to do the same to me. The wild, crazed look in his wide eyes says he might give it a shot, in any case.
“You should've listened better when he tried to teach you,” Romero taunts. “Or maybe there was just no getting through your thick fucking skull.”
“How thick is your skull?” In a flash, Sebastian pulls out his piece, pointing it at the ceiling while glaring at Romero. “You think it's thick enough to stop a bullet?”
“That's it. Put the fucking gun away and leave. You've said your peace, you have your answers, and now it's time to go.” Gripping him by the shoulder, I guide him toward the door, opening it before taking him down the hall. I snap my fingers when I catch sight of a guard at the other end. “You're still welcome here, but not until you calm the hell down. Don't you ever pull a gun in my fucking home again. I'm letting this go one time only out of respect for your late father, however that's as far as my generosity goes. Next time I'll let Romero kill you where you stand.”
The guard reaches us, and I give Sebastian a slight shove in his direction. He straightens out his jacket, concealing the gun again. “Take Mr. Costello out to his car.”
Sebastian turns and points a finger toward my office. He's trembling with rage that leaves sweat beading at his temples. “I'm going to need an apology from that prick if you expect us to do business together.”
It'll be a cold day in hell. “I'll pass on the message.” A jerk of my chin gets the men moving, and I watch until they round the corner to the entry hall.
So much for that. If I can't trust an associate, we don't do business. He might still be helpful, but he's coming nowhere near my inner circle unless he makes amends. I will need a gesture of some sort to convince me he's worth trusting.
“Don't start with me,” Romero warns without turning to face me when he hears me enter the room. He's standing at the window, watching Sebastian's progress while breathing hard, his fists clenched, shoulders rising and falling quickly.
“Maybe Sebastian isn't the only one who needs to be reminded of who he's speaking to.”
