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“Love you,” I throw her way as I exit the small kitchen.
“Ziad!” she shouts after me. “The table!”
I close the door the best I can–the handle broke years ago, and we still need to replace it–pretending not to hear her and walk back to Emma and her dad in the living room. My stepsister is sitting on the sofa on her own, her dad in his old armchair. She doesn’t seem like it, with her bleached blonde hair, extensions, and acrylic pink nails, but Emma is the head of NSC. Our crew is one of two fighting for control of the North Shore.
The North Shore Crew against the Kings of the North Shore, an ongoing war we’ll never see the end of. Currently, they have the upper hand. Emma hates to hear it, but it’s been just over three years since they’ve taken control of our town. To say I’m sick of it would be an understatement.
We’re all suffering from it. Our territories get smaller every few months, and our own people are turning against us and joining their side, betraying us like never before.
Mainly? We’ve got no one supplying us.
A few years ago, Kayla King, the head of their gang, got herself a deal with the Bratva. The Wolves, to be exact. The ruthless organization has been supplying them with everything they need. Drugs, women, weapons. We’re small gangs on the North Shore and rely on criminal organizations like the Wolves. We commit the crimes in their names. We go to prison for them. We make them more money, and we take a hefty cut while we’re at it.
NSC used to have that kind of deal with the Bianco family from the Cosa Nostra. But Bianco went down and took us all down with him.
In the last three years, Emma has been doing her best to get us back on the Cosa Nostra’s radar by having discussions with the Luciano family. They were the Bianco’s enemies, and now that they’re gone, the Lucianos are the most powerful family in the Italian criminal organization.
“Seriously,” Emma tells me as I sit beside her. “Where have you been all day? Logan and Tamar said they were on a job for you but didn’t see you all afternoon.”
Logan works for me, stealing cars and dealing drugs, and Tamar is my closest friend. She’s been for as long as I can remember. All the stupid shit I do, she’s always in on it. Her and our other girl, Zara.
“Where’s Zara?” I ask as I relax against my seat. I don’t share a lot of things with my friends and family, and I’m reluctant to talk about who I was with today. It’s not every day we see Stoneview princesses on the North Shore, especially one that had such an impact on me. Nothing could have surprised me more than to see Alexandra Delacroix on my side of town, and I want to keep the hazel-eyed girl to myself for now.
“She’s with Racer at the shop. And you know what?” She gives me an expectant expression, and I know what comes next. “They were—”
“Looking for me too. Got the message. I was at SFU, checking out when the first parties are gonna be. Need to make myself some pennies, don’t I, boss?”
I can read on her face that she doesn’t like the sarcasm in my voice, but Emma has known me forever. She’s used to the sulky bastard I am.
She grabs a strand of blonde extension and starts rolling and unrolling it around her index finger. “If you want to keep selling drugs to rich kids, you’re gonna need supplies.”
“This better come with some good news.” I readjust myself on the sofa, sensing her excitement.
“I’m meeting with Vito Luciano tomorrow.” She’s excited but not smiling. Meeting with crime lords is good for us. It’s also dangerous. “After getting my name to all the soldiers in his organization, he’s finally happy to meet us. Patience pays. I told you.”
My hand goes to the pocket of my hoodie, and I grab the lighter in there. I roll the spark wheel backward, liking the way the dents dig into the pad of my thumb. This is fucking great.
“You’re one stubborn girl, and I love you for it.”
“Love?” she snorts. “Not sure you know what that feels like. I can’t even see the slightest excitement in you right now.”
I guess I’m not very expressive, but if there’s something that fucking excites me, it’s power. The Lucianos can give us plenty of that.
“I’m more excited than a teenage girl getting her Taylor Swift concert ticket. Happy?”
She rolls her eyes and adds, “He wants to talk drug supplies, so you’re coming with me.”
Perfect. “Where are we meeting?”
“At a restaurant on the south bank. One p.m. and not one minute late. Vito Luciano isn’t on Xi time.”
I guess I can’t blame her for the comment. Xi time has become a joke among us for how late I always am to events. Sometimes I’m too busy and something is holding me back. Handling small dealers who work for us isn’t always easy. Sometimes I’m just selfish.
“I’ll be there.”
“If you’re not, it’ll be your problem when you have no drugs to sell to your Stoneview bitches.”
“My Stoneview bitches pay my rent, you know?”
