Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Are you done?” I glance over my shoulder toward the coffee place. “Adam’s probably there already and we need to be on top of this. I told you what Ronan said.”
Her smile fades and she narrows her eyes. Valentina may be messy and frustrating, but she’s still Luciano Santoro’s daughter, and her father was one of the cleverest and most ruthless men I’ve ever met in my life. And while she hides it well, she sure as hell takes after him.
“Ronan’s probably right,” she admits. “Adam’s hard to read, which makes it seem like he’s a deep thinker. But I’ve been looking into him, and I think there’s only one thing that’ll guarantee he’s on our side.”
I rub my face with a hand and make a gesture with my other. “And that is?”
“Let’s go find out.” She walks off and I hurry after her. Valentina loves being cryptic and withholding—it’s her very annoying super power—and I know better than to push when she doesn’t want to say something just yet. Instead, I have to trust that she’ll play the right cards at the correct opportunity and doesn’t fuck this up for both of us.
The coffee shop is hip, trendy, and crowded. The latter is probably what Adam was going for. He’s sitting in the very back at a table all to himself. The huge man looks like he belongs wrestling bears in a circus, not sipping from a normal-sized coffee mug that somehow looks like a tiny little teacup in his big paws. When Valentina and I approach, he nods and doesn’t bother trying to stand in greeting, since I think the guy’s tree-trunk thighs would just flip the table.
“Thanks for meeting with us,” I say and shake his hand.
“We appreciate it.” Valentina takes the chair next to mine. “My father always spoke very highly of you and your family, Mr. Jankowski.”
“Adam.” His voice is low and soft. “And I liked your father very much. He was a difficult man sometimes but always fair in his business dealings.”
“We’re continuing his legacy.” Valentina crosses her legs. Adam’s eyes glance down, and I can’t blame him, but his gaze doesn’t linger, which I like. He’s trying to be respectful. “The Biancos need an adversary. Without one, they’ll dig in their heels and control this entire city for decades. Simon Bianco is a strong Don, and he’s in the process of pumping out a bunch of heirs, just like his father did before him. Our window is limited.”
Adam cocks his head. “You talk as if I care who runs Chicago. The Biancos barely bother me.”
“That’s not true,” I say, cutting in. I can’t let my assistant do all the damn talking. “Bianco soldiers harass your dealers all the time. Ronan complains about it constantly. The Biancos also have deep ties with the police department, and if they ever decide they want to get rid of you, they’ll use the cops to round up your entire organization. They aren’t bothering you now, but they will. The second you step out of line, they will.”
He grunts and studies me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, which is his greatest strength. Adam’s very good at keeping his emotions hidden.
“You’ve said all this before.” He cocks his head to the side. “And it hasn’t totally convinced me yet. I assume there’s a reason you called me here specifically without all the others.”
Valentina’s smile is dazzling. “You saw right through us.”
“I’m big, not stupid.” Adam stares at her. “What do you have to offer me?”
Now I sit back and watch, since it’s her show. She uncrosses her legs and leans toward him, and I swear she’s pushing her boobs together a little bit, drawing his eyes to her chest. I stifle a groan—this is pathetic, even for her, but what the fuck. If it works, it works.
However, this time, Adam doesn’t even take a peek. The fucking self-control on this man must be intense.
“Your grandfather once owned a restaurant.” She’s speaking very softly, and I have to admit, I’m very curious where this is going. I hadn’t heard anything about a restaurant, much less about a grandfather. From what I know about Adam’s organization, he started it with his father ten years earlier—the grandfather hasn’t been involved at all, if he’s still alive.
“How did you know about that?” Adam asks, sounding genuinely surprised.
“I have my sources.” Valentina’s eyebrows arch. “But something happened to it, isn’t that correct? Your grandfather got into debt with the wrong people.”
Now Adam’s expression darkens. “Dziadek slaved his whole life away in that kitchen. It was everything to him.”
“An ugly story, and my heart goes out to him. But from what I understand, it was a Bianco Capo that repossessed your grandfather’s restaurant, isn’t that right? And for the past decade, it belongs to a Bianco associate, who turned it into an Italian place.”