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My father isn’t going to give me any shit, not with the secrets in his closet. He’s the one who sits to heel these days. He plays his role as the happily retired family man who chose to hand his empire over to the son he raised to rule it.
It’s better than being dead.
“Yes!” I answer his call harshly, I want to make sure everything is perfect for Evelyn. I haven’t got time for a drink.
“Raoul Burlusconi, I believe you are trying to track me down.” The voice on the other end of the line is rough, confident and most definitely Russian.
“Prizrak?” I respond, checking the space around me. Of all the times for him to make contact, today isn’t the day I want to be dealing with this shit.
“So, you finally have my attention, what can I do for you?” he asks calmly, and I huff a confident laugh back at him as I slowly pace the top of the altar.
“You're mistaken, I have no desire for your attention,” I hit back, anyone egotistical enough to give themself a name like fucking ‘Prizrak’ is sure to be offended by the lack of fucks I give.
“It seems a rivalry between us has been invented,” the man on the other end of the phone continues. “And you must forgive me if my presence has offended you in any way.”
I look up at the statue of Jesus, his eyes seem to be staring down at me, and my hand makes the sign of the cross over my chest before I speak.
“People who offend me die, yet you still breathe do you not? A little healthy competition never does any harm,” I tell him confidently.
“Then maybe you will be disappointed to learn that you won’t be hearing from me for a while.” He chuckles, “Narcotics aren’t my trade, Burlusconi, but in our world I think it is good to know how all the markets work, don’t you agree?”
“What is the point of this conversation?” I won’t have this man waste my time, not on such an important day.
“Firstly, I want to congratulate you on your wedding day. You made the right choice.”
“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I take a lotus petal from one of the arrangements between my thumb and finger and rub its smooth surface while I wait for his answer.
“It means that you and I don’t have to be enemies. For a while you had something that I feel should be mine, and now that you are no longer in possession of it, I’d like to think that maybe we can be allies.”
“You’re making very little sense.” I feel my frustration starting to build.
“Briella Quinn is far too strong willed for a man like you,” he explains.
“And what would you know about Briella Quinn?” I ask defensively. I may not have had any desire to marry the girl but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about her. Our families relationship remains strong and she has played a major role in helping me maintain that.
“Mr. Burlusconi, I’m not calling you to make a threat, The purpose of this conversation is to build some trust between us. Since you abolished your father, I believe you run the city now. and you should be aware that my stock will be passing through from time to time. I don’t wish for there to be a problem between us, but I'm also not the type of man who asks permission.”
“Stock?” I lower my voice.
“Firearms, mainly,” he clues me in. “I have the best quality available, but I won’t waste your time bragging, not on such an important day for you. I’ll get to my point. A war is coming, and you should either stay out of it, ormake sure you choose the right side.”
“A war, between who? Who the fuck are you?” Frustration overcomes me and I crush the petal in my hand.
“Me? I am no one, just a ghost,” he whispers, and the line goes dead.
