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So he stepped in.
“I went and handled the gang, got myself flush with supply, and grabbed this useless shithead,” he said, waving toward the car.
“Why take Chet’s body then?” I asked, confused.
“Partly because this was my mess to clean up too. But also, figure showing up with Donny alive—he’s the nephew of the boss of this crime family—,” he explained. “And the corpse of the real problem might be enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“Them to go ahead and move out of Shady Valley. Take their operation somewhere else.”
“So you can operate from here,” I said, nodding.
It all made sense.
He’d been lying low, likely checking out all the operations in town, then deciding that going after the Novikoff brothers was likely not the smartest move.
Not when this other empire was all but falling in his lap. Sure, it looked like he’d needed to murder at least ten people, judging by all the blood, but he was the kind of bastard who was okay with that sort of collateral damage if it meant he got what he wanted.
“Apartments are decent enough, especially after a cell for so long, but I got my eye on one of those mansions on Millionaire’s Row,” he said, smirking.
“Looks like you’re on the way there,” I said, nodding.
“Yep. Well, don’t worry about the body. I’ll deal with it after tossing it at the Bulgarians. Oh, and when your girl is well enough, tell her to drop the other few bricks off to me. We will consider ourselves down with each other by then.”
Some part of me wanted to object.
But, really, none of us had any use for drugs.
And we definitely didn’t want to be sitting on it either.
“Got it,” I agreed, nodding.
“Alright. I’m out,” he said, sighing when he looked back at Donny who was crying quietly in the backseat. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he said, face twisting up in disgust. “It just me or are criminals not what they used to be?” he asked, but he was speaking to himself.
Then he was in his car and driving off, leaving me standing there watching him go.
“What was that about?” Judge asked, coming out.
“That was Erion Kadare somehow managing to solve this entire fucking clusterfuck of ours and come out on top himself,” I said, shaking my head.
“Should we be worried about being even indirectly aligned with him, considering the shit with the Bratva?” Judge asked.
“He doesn’t want the old business anymore. He decided to chase out the Bulgarians and take over that trade instead.”
“That works out for everyone, am I right?” Sway asked, brows drawing together.
“It does. And it doesn’t cost us anything but the bricks we want to get rid of anyway.” Despite what he said, though, I wasn’t quite ready to take his advice about lowering our guard.
I was going to need some kind of confirmation of all that shit first.
Little did I know that the confirmation would come by way of Nyx’s phone ringing mid-morning.
Nyx was still passed out after a second dose of drugs in the wee hours of the night.
Sliding my finger across her shattered screen as best I could, I answered to hear the automated voice from the prison call system.
“Czar,” I greeted after accepting.
