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“They are all hers?” Ilias asked close to my left.
I dropped my glass onto my desk and watched his back as his hands left imprints over the glass casing that housed Katia’s knives.
“Yes.”
“This is quite a collection. All with different purposes, grips, blades.” Ilias slid one of the compartments open. “There’s even throw blades and brass knuckles in here.” He inched closer. “Are those diamonds set on—”
“I would close that if I were you,” Arlo warned before I had the chance. After all, Arlo had seen what Katia was capable of with the same blades in question.
Ilias shut the drawer and took one last look at the glass before running his hand through his blonde strands, turning to us. He shrugged with a mischievous grin.
I guess some things would never change.
The door burst open, and while everyone turned to the abrupt entrance, I took a deep breath and drowned the remainder of my drink.
“Guess you finally remembered you had a consigliere,” Salvatore wheezed as he walked in with pressed black trousers, white long-sleeved shirt, and a formal sleeveless sweater vest. His black fedora rested low on his head, and while his shoulders were straight, his posture was curved from age and sickness.
His ill-temper remained intact while he slowly died, and his power was strong with every weak breath he took. But his mind was as sharp as the first time I met him.
I couldn’t stand seeing him slowly deteriorate and hated the deep wrinkles and the struggle it took him to just get here. I hated knowing that soon the last of my blood would be six feet under.
By his missing oxygen tank, this was supposed to be a good day for him, but his weak limbs couldn’t deceive.
“I never forgot.” Seeing him only worsened my mood.
“Hm.” He scoffed and stood over the unfinished chess game. “I don’t have all day.” Salvatore pulled his gaze away from the board and sat across from my desk. “How did the meeting go, and why are you just now calling me?”
I guess thirty-six hours later was not acceptable for Sal.
No one spoke, and Sal’s eyes gripped me tightly. His displeasure was still tight on his lips from the last time we’d been together, upset at how I treated Katia.
I decided it wasn’t the time or place to talk about that day and how he’d overshared the past, or how I’d lost control by the sound of my mother’s name. Instead, I focused on the task at hand. Blood streaking streets.
“It went as expected,” I replied. “In Miami’s favor and blessings.”
“But I wouldn’t be here if it went sosmoothly.” He drew out the last word and coughed. “So what is really the problem?”
“Borelli’s son acts on his behalf,for now.”
“That’s not a surprise.” His hands waved in front of him, as if that didn’t matter.
It didn’t. The man with burned, scarred hands would be dead soon.
Salvatore’s fedora tipped up, and his gaze cut through my thoughts.
“You are going to order his death.” Appalled, he saw my plan. “No one gave youthatblessing, Lucca.”
“Not with those words, but the votes were in my favor. Any visit to my city will be treated as a threat.”
Sal’s head shook, and his chuckle erupted into heaps of gasps.
“You closed off Miami to thefamiglia?” Sal’s voice raised with disbelief marking his eyes.
“Until Katia is no longer a target? Yes, I did.”
He glanced around the room, watching each one of my brothers.
“You all think this is a good idea?” He pointed around.
