Barbarian (Jericho’s Boys #3)

16. Nico

Nico had been to Mama Conti’s many times; sometimes, to eat and other times, just to visit Levi while he worked. The place was always packed with both customers and family, with several of Mama’s kids acting as staff. Nico supposed when you had as many kids as Francesca Conti did, it was easy to staff a restaurant that large.

Nico’s hands were shaking. He had no idea what to expect from a crime lord. He was used to killing bad guys one-to-one or going head-to-head with local gangbangers. He’d never thought he’d be sitting down with Pablo Escabar or El Chapo. These people ran huge criminal enterprises, drug rings, and trafficking operations. They were vicious, exacting.

It felt way above his pay grade.

Jericho had sent instructions for them to enter from the alley and not to be late. When they arrived, the alley in question was filled with cars, expensive ones. Nico recognized Jericho’s Bronco and Thomas’s Aston Martin. There was also a Mercedes G Wagon, a Cadillac Escalade, and two sleek black BMW 7 series. Nico was glad they’d walked. Even if they’d had to borrow a car, it would have looked embarrassingly shabby beside them.

When they approached the back door of the restaurant, there were two large men in black suits flanking either side, their angular features a bit terrifying under the hollow security lights. The men didn’t ask who they were or prevent them from entering, just gave stiff nods as they passed.

Nico had been in the kitchen several times but had never seen the place so empty. It was eerily dark and painfully quiet with only a few emergency lights to guide their way. Nico looked down at his brown chinos and his oatmeal-colored zip-front cardigan that he’d borrowed from Mal. Was this too casual? Mal wore dark jeans and an untucked blue button down that was far more casual, but on Mal, just made him look effortlessly cool.

He was so beautiful.

They followed the low murmur of voices to the party room, the large space at the back of the restaurant often reserved for birthdays and graduation parties. When they slid back the door, they were greeted by more people than anticipated. The party room consisted of two long wooden tables, big enough to accommodate fifty or more people. Only one table was in use.

At the head of the table was a man that Nico could only assume was the Dai Lo himself. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d expected, but it wasn’t the devastatingly attractive man, who appeared no more than fifty at most. His dark hair was cut into what was probably a thousand dollar haircut, and he had sharp cheekbones, an exquisite jawline, and full lips.

He looked Nico and Mal up and down, his lips twitching, like he was holding back a smile. He had a shrewd gaze that made Nico want to fidget under his scrutiny. He, like Mal, wore a button down shirt—black—with the sleeves rolled to his forearms to reveal ink that ran to his finger tips. His open collar revealed even more. There was even a tattoo on his face of three Chinese characters beside his left eye.

“Excellent. You’re early.”

Nico’s gaze snapped to the man who spoke. Thomas Mulvaney. He was almost sixty years old but he was still handsome as ever, as evidenced by Seven practically drooling into his lap. Nico had been so preoccupied with the imposing man at the head of the table, he’d missed Thomas entirely. His silver hair was longer than Nico remembered, but his clothing was as expensive as ever—a navy sweater with some white logo Nico didn’t recognize.

Atticus sat on one side of Thomas and Seven on the other. That put Seven not only right beside the Dai Lo but directly across from Lorenzo Conti, who sat beside his mother, Francesca. Everyone who Jericho had said would be in attendance was there, but there was an additional person Jericho hadn’t mentioned in attendance. Felix.

He sat regally beside Atticus in a perfectly tailored suit jacket with nothing beneath it, the tattoo on his sternum in full view. His hair was in a ponytail, curls framing his face, a full beat of makeup on. The man at the head of the table seemed quite taken with him, his eyes drifting to him again and again.

Behind the Dai Lo stood no fewer than six men, all leaning casually against the wall in black suits. Francesca had four of her other sons with her at the table as well. Was this how it was done? Why was Mama there in the first place and why had she brought her own reinforcements?

Regardless of the reason, Thomas, Francesca, and the Dai Lo all appeared pleasantly relaxed, but it was easy to see it was an act. They were like three coiled snakes pretending to be sleeping, each ready to strike if and when it became necessary. Nico really hoped it would never be necessary.

It was the Dai Lo who spoke first. “Have a seat,” he said. His British accent threw Nico’s brain into free fall. Who was this man? He gestured for Nico and Mal to take the seats at the opposite end, and Nico was suddenly grateful for the length of the table. He wanted as much distance between them and that man as possible. Just in case.

Thomas smiled. “Dai Lo Liang, this is Malachi and Nico. They’re the ones who have all the key details of the current situation at hand.”

Nico felt like he should bow or something. When Mal slightly inclined his head, Nico did the same, but he didn’t know if it was customary or not.

The Dai Lo gave a small nod of acknowledgement, then looked at Thomas. “How can I help you, Mr. Mulvaney?”

“Well, as I said before, we’re grateful you would make such a long journey?—”

“I needed to come check on operations here anyway. My son has been too quiet as of late,” the man said.

Thomas nodded. “Regardless, we’re grateful. If you don’t mind, I’ll let the boys explain exactly why we’ve reached out to you.”

“Right,” the Dai Lo said. “Let’s have it then.” Nico looked at Mal then back to the man at the head of the table, his mouth suddenly desert dry. The man seemed to find Nico’s panic amusing. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite.”

Nico gave Mal his rounded, saddest puppy dog eyes. Mal sighed, slightly shaking his head.

“Dai Lo Liang, we’re very sorry to involve you in this situation at all, but we weren’t sure what else to do. Approximately a week ago, a woman went missing. That woman is the mother of one of my dance students. The student called me late one night to tell me that a man was trying to break into her apartment and that her mother hadn’t been home in a few days. She was terrified. Nico and I got to her apartment as quickly as possible but it was already too late.”

“Too late?” the Dai Lo asked.

Mal gave a stilted nod. “Yes, sir. We found the door broken and my student hiding in the bathroom clutching a knife beside a man dead on the floor. The man’s name was Eric, and, though we didn’t know it at the time, he was one of your son’s men. The girl was only thirteen, and she was simply defending herself.”

The Dai Lo seemed amused. “Are you asking me to keep my son from retaliating against a child who killed a low-level soldier in self-defense? I don’t condone attacking children. If this Eric man went after her and was bested by a child, that’s his shame to bear.”

“No, sir,” Nico said. “The missing woman worked as a seamstress at the marketplace. She was one of the top…earners for your son. She made high quality knock-off designer handbags, ones so well done they could fool experts. We went to the market to look for her, but the vendors there all seemed to believe she ran away with her daughter, trying to escape your organization’s hold.”

The Dai Lo sat forward, threading his fingers together in front of him. “But you don’t believe that?”

Mal shook his head. “My student is currently at a safe house being looked after by friends. Her mother would never leave without her but she has disappeared. After we inquired about her at the marketplace, two men attacked me at my job and demanded to know where the missing woman was.”

“If they don’t know where she is either, then why am I here? Maybe she really did leave her daughter behind. People do all kinds of things when they’re frightened,” the Dai Lo said.

“I don’t think so,” Nico retorted. “We believe that someone within your organization knows more than they’re letting on.”

The man frowned. “How so?”

“Well, an informant said that our missing woman had some problems with one of your son’s men a few months back. While it seems clear that your son is just as in the dark about the missing woman’s whereabouts, we’re hoping he might be able to tell us who it was that was harassing her before she disappeared.”

“And you hoped to accomplish this by questioning whom, exactly?” the Dai Lo asked.

“We thought we’d start with the men who attacked me,” Mal answered. “We wanted your permission since our…interrogation methods can sometimes be…violent.”

The Dai Lo frowned once again. “You think these men know where your missing woman is?”

“Not necessarily, but we really have no other leads and the window for finding her alive feels like it’s closing rapidly,” Nico said. “We thought, even if they didn’t know where she was, they might know which of the twins was harassing her.”

The Dai Lo’s head quirked with interest. “The twins? Are you referring to Frankie and Jason?”

“Yes, sir. The rumor is that one of them had taken some kind of interest in her and was harassing her. We think, perhaps, whoever this man was, he might know her whereabouts.”

“Are you claiming one of my men harmed this woman?” the Dai Lo asked.

Nico shook his head. “Not exactly. But if he was that obsessed with her, maybe he could at least give us some ideas of where to look for her.”

“Are you sure you’re not just out to get revenge on the men who attacked you?” the man asked Mal.

Mal made eye contact, then quickly looked away. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t like some payback, but this is hardly the first time I’ve taken a beating. My need for revenge isn’t so great that I’d risk starting a war with the GTB.”

“Did someone imply you were attempting to start a war?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

Mal shook his head. “No, but the men who attacked me seemed to think we’d questioned the people at the market on Jericho’s orders, which isn’t the case. I’m looking into this because my student is very worried about her mother.”

The Dai Lo glanced at Jericho. “Well, he is the head of your clan. It makes sense that he would have given the orders.”

“We did ask permission from him, but we were not acting on his behalf,” Nico said. “If that makes sense,” he added begrudgingly.

The man’s lips twitched in a barely-there smile. “It makes perfect sense.” Then, after a beat of silence, the Dai Lo said, “So, you’re asking my permission to question the two men who attacked you?”

Mal nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The man curled two fingers over his shoulder. Another man with two face tattoos and a shiny black ponytail bent down so the Dai Lo could whisper into his ear.

“Let’s see if we can get to the bottom of this right now.”

“Right now?” Nico parroted, voice raising an octave. “As in?—”

“I refuse to waste my time with low-level lackeys. I prefer we go straight to the source. I’ve asked them to fetch my son.”

Nico choked on his own spit. “Your son?”

The Dai Lo looked at Jericho. “Your children are quite amusing.”

“They have their moments,” Jericho said, sounding both exasperated and fond.

The Dai Lo grinned, revealing teeth so perfect they had to be veneers.

“How about a drink while we wait for Leo?” Mama Conti asked. “Thomas has brought a bottle of fifty-year-old Moutai Baijiu from his personal collection.”

The Dai Lo looked at Thomas. “The Pu’erh Tea was more than enough. You’re spoiling me.”

“I’ve been saving this bottle for a special occasion. Very few people I know can appreciate its unique taste,” Thomas said.

“How could I refuse?” the Dai Lo asked.

Francesca turned and whispered to the son who sat opposite Lorenzo. Dario? Lucky, maybe? It was hard for Nico to remember them all. He stood and excused himself. While they waited, Thomas, Francesca, and the Dai Lo exchanged pleasantries. Nico learned that the man had attended an international school all throughout his teens, learning English from several British instructors, and that he’d attended Tsinghua University, which was China’s version of MIT.

When Mama’s son returned, he held a mustard yellow box with red writing on it. He showed the box to each of them before opening it and pulling free a cylindrical bottle. He cracked the seal in front of them, then poured glasses for everyone at the table, including Mal and Nico.

Nico stared down at the glass, intimidated. He and Mal exchanged glances before looking warily at Jericho, who gave them a single nod that was code for drink it and shut up .

“It’s meant to be downed all in one go,” Thomas explained. “Almost like a shot.”

Each of them nodded. When the Dai Lo raised his glass, they all followed, though they didn’t hold theirs as high up as his.

“To truth and clarity. May tonight bring understanding and peace,” the man said, tipping his glass slightly.

Nico’s eyes watered at the strong herbal scent, flavors exploding on his tongue before he swallowed, following the burn all the way down. Nico couldn’t stop himself from coughing. Mal patted his back gently.

The Dai Lo chuckled. “It’s not to everyone’s taste.”

“It’s good,” Nico wheezed, then gave another delicate cough. “Spicy, even.”

The Dai Lo laughed again, looking at Mal. “And you, what do you think? How would you describe it?”

“It’s fascinating,” Mal answered. “The smell is sharp and heavy, almost like a warning. It’s layered, complex. There’s a bite to it, a bitterness like over-brewed tea, but then it gets…almost buttery, like roasted peanuts and toasted sesame seeds. And there’s a medicinal taste that lingers. I like it.”

The man grinned. “You have an extremely sophisticated palette for someone so young.”

Nico stared at Mal. How was he always so good in every situation? He claimed to be weird and awkward, which, to be fair, he sometimes was, but never when it counted, never when Nico needed him to be anything but. He always rose to the occasion.

Mal gave a slight nod. “Thank you.”

Another fifteen minutes passed before a disheveled-looking man entered the room, flanked by two men. Leo was a good looking guy just like his father, but there was something messy about him. He looked gaunt, sickly, like an addict. His hair stood on end, and his shirt was buttoned wrong, tucked half in and out of his pants. He was hostile from the jump, spitting words at his father in rapid-fire Cantonese.

They could do nothing but watch as the Dai Lo and his son argued in a language Nico didn’t understand. Leo was broadly gesturing towards the table as he spoke, his gaze stuttering and locking on Felix before he sneered and unleashed another tirade.

Nico’s mouth fell open when Felix cut the man off in Cantonese. He had no idea what Felix said, but whatever it was, it had Leo’s already sallow complexion growing waxy and the Dai Lo smirking at his son’s shock.

“You speak Cantonese?” the Dai Lo said to Felix.

“And Mandarin,” Felix said. “Our mother was Chinese. I find knowing both dialects comes in handy when I’m shopping for fabrics at the markets.”

“Impressive,” the Dai Lo said.

Felix inclined his head, then gave Leo a withering once-over, like he was beneath him. This only seemed to amuse the Dai Lo further. Leo now refused to acknowledge Felix.

“I apologize for my son’s behavior. I had hoped that sending him here would help him grow up, but it appears that, without my supervision, he’s only fallen even deeper into his own vices.”

“Why are you talking to them about me?” Leo snapped, sounding whiny and ungrateful to Nico’s ears.

“I’m merely apologizing for your lack of manners. It’s the least I can do. What is it you’ve been up to that has caused such chaos in so little time?” the Dai Lo asked.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Leo said sullenly.

“Did you send men to attack him?” the Dai Lo asked, pointing at Mal.

“I don’t even know who that is,” Leo snapped, his confusion telling Nico he meant it.

“How is it that your men are dispatching people to pull jobs within the organization without your knowledge or permission? Exactly who did I leave in charge?”

The man snorted. “Are you aware of everything your underlings do? I have bigger things to worry about.”

“Such as?” the Dai Lo asked.

“Do you really want to discuss that here?” Leo spit.

“No, actually. I want you to tell me about the missing seamstress who works in our shop.”

Leo opened and closed his mouth like he was a fish out of water. “What? Who?”

“Amy,” Mal supplied.

Leo looked Mal up and down. Nico was starting to think the sneer on his face was permanent. “What about her? She took her kid and ran. I’ve got men looking for her, though.”

“She didn’t run away. Her kid is fine. Someone took her,” Mal said.

Leo shook his head, giving Mal another irritated look. “How would you know? Who are you?”

“There was a rumor that this Amy woman had a problem with either Frankie or Jason. One of them was harassing her,” the Dai Lo explained to his son. “Is that true?”

Again, the man looked both annoyed and confused. “What? That was months ago. Frankie was getting a little handsy with her. Jason took care of it.”

“Jason took care of it? Why didn’t you take care of it?” his father barked.

“Because Frankie doesn’t listen to anyone but Jason, and you insisted that Jason be part of my crew. You know they’re a package deal. Either way, it was handled.”

“Are you sure?” the Dai Lo asked. “Maybe Frankie saw an opportunity and took it. Are you sure he doesn’t know where she is?”

Leo scoffed. “You really think Frankie would waste his time on some run-down seamstress? She was an easy target. When Jason slapped his hand, he moved on. He’s been in the warehouses every night, and when he’s not there, he’s keeping half the hookers in this town in high heels.”

“Do you know anyone else who might have had it out for her?” Mal asked. “Anyone who was paying a little too much attention?”

Leo shook his head. “No. Jason made it known that she was off-limits. That she was too important to the operation for him to have to babysit the others and that she was under his protection.”

“So, who in your organization would be willing to overlook Jason’s orders?” Jericho asked.

Leo shook his head. “Nobody. They know what happens when they disobey direct orders.”

They all sat there, letting the threat hang in the air.

“So, where does that leave us?” Nico finally asked. “Someone has to know where she is.”

Thomas leaned forward, catching the Dai Lo’s eye. “We’d like permission to look into some of the men, starting with Frankie.”

“No way,” Leo said. “You can’t go snooping into our operations.”

“Watch your tone,” his father snapped. “Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?”

Leo looked like he wanted to snap back but seemed to reconsider, seeing as how he was still being held up by two of his father’s men.

“Forgive me,” the Dai Lo said to Thomas. “But my son has a point. Having outsiders involve themselves in our operation is just bad business.”

Thomas nodded. “Of course, but isn’t it in your best interest to find Amy as well? Your men have clearly been looking just as hard as we have and they’ve found nothing. Consider us a fresh set of eyes.” The Dai Lo looked at Leo for a long while. Thomas added, “From what I understand, she disappeared before she could train the others. I imagine your counterfeiting operation is at a standstill until she’s returned to you, no?”

Was Thomas suggesting they return Amy and Casey back to these people? What was happening? Thomas was supposed to be one of the good guys. Well, as good as anyone who killed people could be. Nico gnawed on the inside of his cheek, his leg jiggling rapidly until Mal set a hand on his knee.

Nico let the warmth of his hand bleed into his skin through the thin fabric.

“I don’t suppose you’d be content with just letting us investigate and letting you know what we find?” the Dai Lo asked.

“We would feel a bit more at ease if we could do it ourselves,” Thomas said diplomatically.

“And what are you going to do if or when you find out who’s responsible for her disappearance?” Leo asked warily.

“That depends entirely on the state Amy’s in when we find her,” Jericho said. “What would you do if the situation was reversed?”

Leo gave a noncommittal grunt, then looked away.

“Let’s compromise,” the Dai Lo said. “You conduct your investigation. If you find that one of our men is responsible for harming Amy, you let us take care of it. I promise any punishment we dole out will be far more brutal than anything you come up with.”

“And Amy?” Nico asked.

“Well, she will be returned to us, of course. At least, until she fulfills her promise to teach the others. After that, we agree to release her from any further obligations.”

“So, that’s it? If we find Amy, you promise you’ll let her go after she teaches the others?” Nico asked.

“I would feel more comfortable if there was a time limit on her contract,” Thomas said. “Say, no more than six months?”

Leo’s gaze darted to his father’s. “We can’t make that kind of guarantee.”

“It’s more than fair,” Thomas said to Leo. “And you agree to leave her and her daughter alone.”

“Deal,” the Dai Lo said.

“ Fuh chān ,” Leo snapped. “You can’t be serious.”

The Dai Lo stood. It was only then Leo noticed how the man dwarfed his son. To say Leo was five-foot-seven was generous. His father was over six feet. Sitting, the man was imposing; standing, he was downright terrifying. Even his son lost his attitude when his father crowded into his space.

“Are you challenging me?” he asked, raising a perfectly manicured brow.

“What? No, of course not, but bàh bā …six months? That’s nothing. That’s…” He trailed off, chest heaving, lips tight.

“Do you think your little operation is worth this level of hassle?” the Dai Lo asked. “I sent you here to prove to me that you could be responsible. To show me that you’re capable of leading. You weren’t supposed to make a home here for yourself. Counterfeit goods? Handbags, no less? The money you bring in is less than one percent of my overall revenue. You’re lucky I haven’t forced you to close down entirely.”

“But that’s… It’s been less than a year,” Leo whined. “You don’t get it. I can’t do everything you expect me to do in just six months. I need her for longer. She’s pivotal to the operation.”

“Then why haven’t you made more of an effort to find her?” his father asked. “Why am I only hearing about her disappearance now?”

Leo shrank under the man’s intense gaze. “I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t handle things on my own.”

“You clearly can’t,” he fired back. “You will allow them to investigate Jason and Frankie, and if they are involved in her disappearance, you will turn the responsible party over to me for punishment. You will not keep this woman for longer than six months and you will make sure she and her daughter are unharmed. Do you understand?”

“Yes, fuh chān,” Leo muttered.

Thankfully, the meeting adjourned after another round of drinks, with Leo standing sullenly behind his father, eyes glued to Felix, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight him or fuck him. Felix had that effect on a lot of straight men. He confused them. Pretty like a flower, vicious as a snake.

Mal and Nico allowed Jericho and Atticus to drive them the short distance to the apartment. Mal said he was fine to walk, but Nico didn’t want him tiring himself out after such a long day.

They were almost out of the truck when Jericho said, “Be careful looking into these guys. I don’t trust Leo not to tip them off. Use Calliope to get whatever information you need and make sure you keep me in the loop.”

Nico nodded. “We will.”

“Goodnight,” Jericho and Atticus said at the same time.

The two men watched until Mal and Nico were in the building, like they were small children and not two fully grown men. Once in the apartment, they didn’t waste any time. They showered together, scrubbing each other down, hands and kisses only lingering a few times.

It was only once they were in bed, curled up together, that Nico fully relaxed. “That was all so…weirdly civilized, you know?”

Mal nodded. “Maybe that’s just how it is when you get too rich to get taken down. When you’re too powerful for prison, you probably feel like you have less to prove. Or maybe, by then, you’ve built such a reputation for being violent, you no longer have to prove yourself?”

“I doubt we’ll ever know,” Nico said with a soft laugh. “Still, something feels off about the whole situation, no?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Mal agreed. “But we’ll figure it out. We always do. I just hope Amy’s still alive. I don’t want to have to tell Casey her mom’s dead.”

“I know, Bunny. I’m sure she’s fine,” Nico said, not sure of anything at all, really.

“That’s tomorrow’s problem,” Mal said with a sigh. “Get some sleep, Fidget.”

Nico burrowed deeper into his arms, crushing his face against Mal’s chest. “Okay. Night, Bunny.”

He felt Mal’s lips brush the top of his head. “Night.”