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“Shit,” Brogan hissed. “They tore the place up.”
I nodded. “And along with what a former employee did by stealing money and information, my sister could face several years in prison.”
“Ouch,” Diego huffed. “Which prosecutor are we talking about?”
“Some asshole by the name of James Buckley.”
Both Diego and Dante laughed, glancing at each other as if there was a significant story behind their amusement.
“He’d sell his mother to achieve his goal,” Diego said casually.
“Which is?”
“He wants to be the governor. We can handle him.” Dante made the claim as if it was no big deal. “He, like every other man in politics, has several ugly secrets he wouldn’t want brought to life.”
“So I’ve heard. That’s not all.” I turned my attention to Maxim. “While you didn’t find anything in Whitney’s condo, what’s the word on the street?”
Maxim’s nostrils flared. “You were right. There’s chatter that the Armenians are interested in taking over Miami.”
“Exactly as I figured. If I were any of you, I’d weed through the slums to find out if your cities are ripe with fresh meat.” They knew what I meant. There would always be new factions of cartels and organizations determined to make a stand. While it was a surprise the Armenians would expand to any significant degree given how territorial they were, nothing could be ruled out any longer. With the internet, offshore banking, and the South Americans working with the highest bidder on guns and drugs, the business we’d been brought up in had become a free-for-all.
“Then let’s make certain they don’t become a problem,” Constantine stated as he looked from one man to the other.
“What about the information you’re desperate to find?” Maxim asked.
“I don’t know yet. I may take a trip to your fair city myself.”
“The woman? She doesn’t know anything?” Brogan leaned over the table, eyeing me carefully.
“No.” But was I so certain? I hated to think she was lying to me in order to protect the memory of a father she claimed to hate, but I had to remind myself that blood was thicker than water.
“The Armenians have always been an issue in New York,” Gabriel added. “However, the Don in Brooklyn owes me a favor given I spared his worthless life. I’ll have a long chat with him.”
I lifted my glass, satisfied that our alliance would help. “To the Brotherhood.”
“Hear, hear.” Dante grinned.
Even as we toasted, another bad feeling began to swell in the back of my mind.
Constantine took a swig of his drink, returning his glass to the table. “Onto another area of business that I wanted to mention while we were all together.”
“Have you ever noticed how formal he’s become?” Brogan asked, laughing.
“Was he like this in college?” Dante piped in.
“Too much so. It was like he was the king and we were his subjects.”
While everyone laughed at Brogan’s statement, I sensed it was an irritant to Constantine. He was all about organization, planning for the future. Now that he was a family man, I’d sensed a change in his attitude.
“We aren’t getting any younger. The alliance has proven to be successful.” He kept his tone even, but there was more emotion in him than usual.
“Speak for yourself, old man.” Diego patted him on the back.
“I’m being serious,” Constantine continued. “Some of us have children, others perhaps soon.” He grinned at me as if telling the future.
I scoffed, glancing toward the river. I wasn’t ready to jump into being a father just yet. “What are you suggesting?”
“We establish a fund.”
