Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Knowing how proud he is, I decided to push the thoughts away, shelving them for another conversation. He’ll have to confide in us soon enough, but the expression he wears tells me that whatever he summoned us here for is more important.
“I’m sending you to Miami.”
With my lips pressed in a straight line, I nod. “The Alvarezes finally came to their senses?”
Prince smirks and leans back in his chair. “A proposito di fottuta ora.” About fucking time. He rants.
Grandfather ignores his outburst and puts his attention on me. “No. That’s why I’m sending you two.”
Prince perks up as he always does anytime he’s given the chance to prove himself. It doesn’t fall very far from the family tree if you ask me. The sight of blood is exciting, and Prince lives for the chance to draw it. He’s our enforcer, and I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t damn good at it.
“Alvarez has agreed to meet but may need a little convincing.” He pauses for a beat. “Your job will be to scope things out, set up the initial meeting, and ensure a deal is made.”
“Not a problem,” I add, accepting the challenge.
“Enzo.” His tone is clipped and serious. “This needs to go off without a hitch. An agreement needs to be made before returning to Italy. Do you understand?” He stares at me, his gaze just as cold and accusatory as his tone, almost as if he’s warning me not to fuck up.
A wave of resentment threatens to wash over me, but a deep breath settles the thoughts before they arise. There’s no point. Trust is earned every day with this man, and it’s not like I haven’t given him hell over the years. The same way I know all there is to know about him, he can read me like a book, too.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get your deal.”
He tips his chin in my direction and then points his sights on Prince. “You’re to go with him.”
Prince shuffles in his seat, eagerness creeping across his features. He tries to dial it back, but it’s too late for that. Grandfather sees it and lets out a heavy sigh.
“What do you need?”
“Routes. The Cubans run most of Miami, and we need to secure an alliance.”
“We have routes, too,” I remind him.
He shakes his head. “Not as many. And if we aren’t careful, we’ll lose what we do have. We have the product, and they have the territory. It’ll be your job to make sure they realize they need us.”
“And how am I supposed to do that? The Alvarezes haven’t particularly been our biggest fans.”
“Get creative. Make it so they see the value in our families working together.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
I fix my eyes on him, baiting him for an honest answer. He knows just as much as I do that Josef would rather die than work with us. Over the years, we’ve found a way to exist, which is a miracle, considering how deep the hate goes with the Alvarezes and the De Lucas. A war that is only simmering under the surface, waiting to explode. The fathers before them managed to silence the beef, all with the promise that we stay out of each other’s way. And now we’re supposed to work together?
“What are we walking into?” I dare ask.
“Josef is a smart man, and smart men like money. He’s also bleeding through it and needs this connection a lot more than we do. The stubborn asshole has agreed to meet; you just need to convince him.”
“I’ll need the research file—give me every piece of evidence you have on him.”
Grandfather opens the drawer on his right and removes a manila envelope, slapping it on the desk only inches in front of me. He coughs again, then takes a sip of whiskey as I lean forward, setting my empty tumbler down and picking up the package.
Prince huddles close while I undo the string that binds the flap close and reach inside. The stack is thick and smooth like photos, and once I dig the files out, I know that I’m right.
“And Enzo.”
We stare back at Grandfather simultaneously, waiting for him to continue.
“Make the connection, stay out of trouble, and come right back home,” he orders.
I continue to survey his features, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. He knows me well indeed, just like he knows my vice of pretty girls on the Miami strip.
“And where’s the fun in that,” I tease and stand.
Prince follows my lead, taking the envelope when I hand it to him. Grandfather shakes his head, downs the rest of his drink, and waves us off.
“Don’t worry, Nonno. I’ll be on my best behavior.” I turn and head for the exit.
Prince is at my side, reviewing the images. He makes a noise, and I glance in his direction.