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“I will, as I’m the oldest,” Elio says. “It’s already been discussed, and the territory has been laid out. It’s all in the file we provided.”
The file will be an attachment to the treaty until the new one is made up. We knew they’d ask a million questions about the three of us taking over, so we provided everything we assumed they’d ask for, like a map of who will handle what. Even though the Bramante borders won’t change, they’ll want to know who is where, in case there are any problems. We’ve already handled it.
“All right. It seems the only issue to handle is the changing of names in the treaty,” Maximo begrudgingly adds.
“No, I don’t think so,” Dario says, with a shake of his head.
“What the fuck,” I mutter. Elio glares at me again.
Marco has been oddly silent. Our father’s death is hitting him hard. He hasn’t put it together yet. He thinks Dad shot himself. Which is what I wanted them both to think. Problem is, Elio is too deep into this life to fall for something like that. Marco isn’t stupid, he just prefers to accept things at face value.
“What’s the problem, Dario?” Maximo asks with a huff.
No one has appointed Maximo the head of anything. We’re all equals here. He has no more say than the rest of us, but he has been around the longest compared to everyone else and took over the lead position when my father got ill. When our father was around, he was the one who took charge. Maximo has been around the block and knows what he’s doing, so I’m fine with him stepping into this role, but it doesn’t mean I trust him outside of this meeting room.
“I don’t like it,” Dario says simply.
“Like what, exactly?” I ask.
“Your fucking attitude, for one,” he barks.
I smirk. “I’m not here to please you, Dario. Isn’t that what your wife is for? Oh, wait. She’s dead.”
He slams his fist on the table. “You better watch your mouth, you little shit.”
“Dario, what is the problem?” Maximo repeats. The man is losing his patience. Everyone can see it. Maximo is a powerful man, and he isn’t someone I’d want on my bad side. Dario should watch what the hell he’s doing.
“I’m not okay with the three of them running so much territory.”
“It’s not up to you. There’s nothing that says they can’t. It’s Bramante land. This is how it goes,” Maximo argues.
“It’s not right. Shit is going to fall apart.” Dario stresses his final two words with a hand slap on the table.
“It’s not your territory to worry about,” Maximo explains.
“It will be when they can’t keep shit straight and fuck everything up for the rest of us,” Dario shouts.
A quick glance around the table tells me no one else shares his concerns. It’s clear he’s being a dick, and everyone knows it. Connor Kearney is picking at his nails, while his brother, Sean, looks like he’s sleeping. His head is rested back, hands folded on his chest.
“If that happens, we will handle it.” Maximo keeps his patience about him, which is surprising. Maybe I should have a better hold on my anger, but it’s difficult when dealing with morons like Dario.
“No,” Dario barks, slamming his hand to the table again. “I don’t accept it.”
“And you want to comment on my temper?” I mutter.
Connor huffs out a laugh.
Everyone else ignores me, and Maximo continues trying to figure out why Dario has a stick up his ass. “So what? You want to renegotiate the entire treaty? Do you have any idea how long that will take?”
Dario shakes his head. “I don’t care if it takes years.”
Maximo looks around the room. The Kearney brothers are both shaking their heads now, looking more annoyed than anything. Maybe I can get Dario to piss them off more, and they can take him out for me. Doesn’t Dario know all he’s doing is making enemies around this table?
“How does no one else have a problem with this? We can’t trust these boys to handle all that territory.” Dario flicks his wrist at us.
“Boys?” Elio questions. “Now you’re just insulting us.”
“You know how this goes, Dario. Whatever you have an issue with, you need to submit it officially to all parties. We will reconvene and discuss.”
