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“I’m not one for fancy speeches, so I’ll get straight to it. We’re here because the hostilities between our organizations have reached an untenable level. Rivalries are one thing. But we’ve crossed too many lines, and there’s too much blood in the streets.”
He pulls a silver cigarette case out of his breast pocket, opens it, slips one between his lips, and lights it deftly with a flick of a silver Zippo. Smoke curls around the Irishman’s head as his glinting green eyes pierce through it.
“I’m not going to get all weepy and sentimental. The truth is, the reason all of us are here is that war will mean ruin to both the Kildare and Drakos families. It will destroy our business interests. And there are already enough jackals circling, waiting for the first sign of weakness to strike. The Bolinaro Cartel. The Carveli Family. The Reznikov Bratva, not to mention their allies.”
Cillian’s icy gaze lands on me.
I don’t blink.
“So in the interest ofnotgetting hit from behind by an enemy while we bicker like schoolboys, Ares and I have come to an arrangement—one that will end these hostilities forever, and make both of our families stronger than ever as a united front.”
I watch Neve’s face scrunch up in confusion as she turns to frown at her uncle.
Oh, this is about to get good.
“Aunitedfront?”
Goddamnit, Ezio.
I frown quietly as I lean forward, turning to stab my gaze down the length of the table to where Ezio Adamos is glaring daggers at Cillian.
“Please,go onabout this fuckingunitedfront we’re supposed to have with?—”
“Ezio.”
My voice is neither raised nor very forceful. But it cuts through the room all the same, quickly silencing him. He stares at me, fury and pain boiling behind his eyes.
The Adamos family is a subsidiary, tributary family to ours. Their allegiance has been pledged to the Drakos family for generations, and the way I can see Ezio about to suicide bomb this entire discussion has my jaw grinding harshly.
But I get it. And I feel for him.
Ezio’s only son, Jason, was at the meeting where Vasilis Drakos and Declan Kildare opened fire.
He was also killed.
“Ares,please,” he hisses at me, pain glinting in his eyes. “You cannot seriously be considering allying ourselves with these backstabbing, honorlessMicks?—”
“Be silent,” I snap.
I’m not completely heartless. I understand he’s in pain. But this is decidedlynotthe place for it. Or the time for him to start hurling slurs.
Cillian clears his throat, eying Ezio across the table.
“What would…easeyour grief?”
Fuck.
This isn’t Cillian being diplomatic.
This is him going for the throat, and Ezio’s about to walk right into his trap.
“What wouldease my fucking grief?!” He snaps at the Irishman.
“I don’t believe I stuttered, Mr. Adamos. What’s the going rate on grief these days? Ten thousand? Twenty?”
Goddammit.
Ezio lurches to his feet, his face a mask of seething rage as he whips his head around to glare at me.
