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The Russos and Gallos are nothing but snakes. They’re the worst of the worst, petty thieves, disorganized. Especially the fucking Russos. My family has hated theirs for years. We’re their prime target for crimes. I can’t count the number of raids the Russos have orchestrated against our businesses over the years, making away with the majority of our supply of drugs.
The D’Angelo family in the Upper East Side is probably the most popular mafia family in New York. They’re high-profile, infamous. The family gets a lot of media attention. They attend galas, society events, and roll with most of the high-class people. We’re pretty much the opposite.
Owing to the Russos and their constant interference, our businesses are more international. We have strongholds in Greece, Mexico, China, some parts of Germany, and most of Eastern Europe. Since the D’Angelos businesses are primarily in New York. It’s why we’re able to keep from stepping on each other’s toes.
Our families usually stay out of each other’s business. But of the five families, they’re the most easily accessible and the only ones I can turn to for help. I hate that I have to ask for help in the first place, but in this case, I have no choice. Sometimes you just have to choke down your pride.
Thankfully, I was able to arrange a meeting with their Don. I know his older brother. Carlo and I met a few years ago when he was in some trouble and I helped him out. I called yesterday asking him to return the favor. He was happy to oblige. Unfortunately, he has retired from the underworld and is currently taking a backseat, but he assured me he would put in a good word to his brother.
Christian D’Angelo is a fucking legend. There aren’t a lot of people I would feel inclined to respect, but Christian’s definitely one. We might have never spoken but I’ve heard about his accomplishments. I know who he is and I know what he can do. Our situations are pretty comparable. When his father died, he was also pushed into the position of a Don earlier than expected.
The D’Angelo headquarters is a large building in Bayside. It’s prime real estate and would have been fucking expensive to acquire. I’m not surprised they were able to get it, though. Carlo’s in-laws own the building. I walk into Christian’s office after being searched and discarded of any weapons. Tony and Michael are right behind me. They’re the only men I could bring.
Mostly because I don’t have any more. Our resources are stretched thin. Some men are doing damage control. Salvador Legan, Tony’s dad and my father’s advisor, has been busy meeting our suppliers and associates since yesterday. He’s our family’s consigliere and is great at taking care of delicate situations. We need to know who’s on our side and who we’re going to have to kill. Salvador’s trying to convince whoever he can to come back to the right side.
Christian doesn’t stand as we enter. I didn’t expect him to.
“Hello, De Luca,” he greets. “Have a seat.”
I do as he asks. Silence stretches across the room, each of us waiting for the other to speak first. Seeing as I’m the one in need of something, I decide to break it.
“Thank you for meeting with me. We both know why I’m here,” I say, deciding to get right down to the crux of the matter.
He nods. “First off, I’m sorry for your loss. Your father was a great man. I admired him and his efforts.”
My throat bobs. “Thank you. Can we move on to business now?” I don’t need sympathy.
“Of course.” Christian smirks. “You’re in a lot of trouble. The worst wars are the ones we fight within ourselves. How does it feel to be betrayed by someone you once trusted?”
My fists clench. I’m pissed he would be so forward with the question, but I can see in his eyes that he’s genuinely curious.
“It’s feels pretty shitty, D’Angelo. A man my father once trusted killed him without a second thought. I learned a pretty big lesson, though. And you should, too. Even the people closest to you could stab you in the back. Be careful who you trust.”
I’m not giving out the advice lightly. With his brother out of commission, Christian probably doesn’t have any one else he can rely on. He has another brother, but Topher D’Angelo has always been more interested in partying than murder. Although last I checked, he was happily married with kids.
It might be a bit harsh saying those words with Michael and Tony right behind me—after what happened with my father, I’m less inclined to trust even them completely. But they’re my brothers. If I can’t trust them, I won’t have anyone.
“Thanks for the advice,” Christian says, his jaw clenched slightly. “Now, as to why you’re here. You need my help.”
He says it matter-of-factly but my chest still clenches. I nod once.
“We don’t have enough manpower. I want to take down the people responsible for my father’s death before the end of the week, but the bastard has gone into hiding and I don’t have enough eyes and ears in the city. I know you’re well connected. You can find him in no time.”
Christian leans against his chair as he ponders my words for a few moments. “My brother put in a good word for you. He said you saved his life once.”
“I did.”
“And despite how grateful I am for that, you can understand why I don’t feel like jumping into the fire and getting involved in a gang war. The Russos are involved and we both know things can quickly escalate. Why should I put my family in danger for yours? What can you offer me?”
He’s making solid points. Thankfully, I came prepared. I gesture for Michael to bring the files. He hands it to me and I place it on the table.
“You’re well aware we control the underground heroin fields in Mexico. From what I’ve heard, you’ve been itching to dip your toes into production instead of just supply and demand. If you help us, I’ll relinquish one of our fields to you. And I’ll open trade routes for the D’Angelo family into Mexico.”
Christian arches an eyebrow. “We both know that’s not enough.”
My jaw clenches. I suspected it wouldn’t be.
“I heard you’ve been pushing for James Malone to become the next congressman,” I start.
