AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Right this way. Gabriel and the rest of the men are in the meeting room,” he says before leading the way down a series of hallways and to the room.
When we walk into the room, my gaze lands on Gabriel Sr. first. He sits at a long table that stretches the length of the room, his men all on one side of it with him and a dozen empty chairs on the other side for us. Their faces are stoic, and Gabriel has his hands clasped together in front of him on the table, his eyes glossed over like he’s being read a fucking bedtime story.
The men don’t bother to stand up, so we don’t bother to reach our hands out to shake theirs as we all pull out chairs and sit down, tension cutting through the air and sucking it up, making it feel difficult to breathe.
My father sits across from Gabriel Sr., Francesco sits across from their Underboss, and Leo sits across from their consigliere, who he’s been communicating with over the last hour or so. Me and the rest of our capos, sans Enzo because the prick hasn’t picked up his fucking phone, position ourselves across from the Amato capos, the wooden chair legs digging into the floorboards and making loud screeching noises as we sit ourselves up at the table.
“Thank you for taking our meeting so quickly,” Leo starts, nodding at the Amato consigliere, who returns with his own nod.
My attention focuses not on the man across from me but on the head of the Amato family. His chest puffs out, the suit he’s wearing stretching across his wide frame.
“I’d like to ask all weapons to stay in their holsters throughout the meeting. This meeting isn’t one that’s meant for bloodshed. It’s meant to speak on our common ground and come together to find a solution for an issue that’s commandeering any of our other problems or the turmoil that rests between our families.” Leo looks to my father, who clears his throat before taking over.
My father stares directly into the eyes of the man who took his daughter from him, and for the first time since I realized Giana was missing and we called this meeting, I realize that my father is probably going through fucking hell right now. Facing the man he’s been plotting against for a year.
He’s been taking his time and gathering intel against the Amatos. We’ve been doing our due diligence—questioning Amato associates and anyone we think can give us information on the deaths of our women, but we’ve had to put this out longer than we’ve wanted.
And if it were up to me, and luckily it isn’t, we would have just gone onto Amato territory and destroyed it all, burnt it down to the ground, and taken them all as prisoners so we could torture them until the end of time.
“We found out this afternoon that Giana Amato was kidnapped by the cartel,” my father says, his eyes scanning the length of the chairs across from us. “Of course, there’s an off chance that it was you, but I’m ninety-nine percent certain this is the doing of The Blood Syndicate to get back at both of our families for what happened at the wedding. Now, do any of you know anything that should be spoken of before I move on?”
None of the Amato men make a move to disagree, and my father continues.
“Were you privy to this information prior to this moment? Did any of you have a hand in this? I know your family was working with the cartel, and it wouldn’t be far off to believe.”
For the first time, Gabriel Amato speaks up. His voice is one of a smoker, and it makes him seem even older than he is.
“We had no part in anything to do with Giana,” he confirms. “I’ve been waiting for their retaliation the same as I’m sure you have. It doesn’t come as a surprise that they took her. She was owed to them. Contracts were signed. She was theirs. Is it kidnapping if the girl was meant for them?”
I want to wrench one of the guns from my side and blow a bullet between this fucker’s eyeballs. I don’t. But the urge to end him is strong within my bones.
“Giana wouldn’t have been safe or cared for by them with your original arrangement, and after what happened on the wedding day, she’s in an unexplainable amount of danger. Would you be able to live with yourself if—”
“I gave her to them!” Gabriel raises his voice, cutting off my father and pounding one fist onto the wooden table. “She is no longer mine to deal with, and your son is the one who fucked up the deal. If her demise is on anyone’s hands, it’s his.”
The red I was seeing before turns into an uncontrollable, unyielding, and intensified craze that bites at my skin, causing my temper to unleash in the only way it knows how.
Chaotic. Fucking. Violence.
I stand so quickly and with such force that my chair falls to the ground. Fuck the levelheadedness I was aiming for. Now, all I want to aim for is each of these fucking fools in front of me.
“How can a man so powerful be so careless with his own flesh and blood?” I grit the words out between clenched teeth, fists balling at my sides to prevent myself from reaching for my weapon. My sanity holds on by nothing more than a fucking fraying string.
The capos from the Amatos stand in time with ours, and the only ones left sitting on either side are the top men.
“You know Giana will be tortured and killed and quite possibly left on your fucking doorstep, Amato!” I scream the words, my rage so powerful, swarming my insides like a host of wasps has been unleashed inside me. “Sound fucking familiar? You have no soul. You’ve been at this game so long that not even the death of your own daughter will faze you. Pezzo di merda.”
This man is such a fucking piece of shit.
“Please!” Leo says, standing and holding his palms out to the room. “Nothing will get accomplished if this becomes a goddamn bloodbath. We need to figure out our next move. Gabriel, are you going to help us get your daughter back? Do you plan on coming together for the first time in decades in order to fight for your kin? Or are you resolved to let another family fight a war thatyoushould be fighting?”
Leo’s words are music to my fucking ears. Thank God somebody is on the same page as I am. Christ.
Something flashes in Gabriel’s eyes. His eyes, which are so similar to Giana’s, make it hard to look at him for too long.
“Daughters are a precious thing,” my father says.
He’s always had a way with words, always able to get to the root of an issue without bloodshed—without outwardly hitting a man where it hurts.
