Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Marco could tell that Kelsey did not want to leave his side, but he needed to have a conversation with Niko, and it would be best if she didn’t hear this.
Soon babygirl. I’m going to get you far away from this ugly world. Just stay with me a little bit longer and it’ll all be okay.
He wasn’t sure if she got that all with the look he gave her, but she seemed to understand as he said, “Why don’t you go in there, where the other ladies are. I won’t be long.”
Jerking his head toward the attached sitting room, he watched as Kelsey looked through the open doorway and saw a few other women in there talking.
“Okay,” she said quietly before slowly walking toward them.
“We won’t be long, sweetheart,” Niko said.
Marco wanted to punch him. How dare Niko talk like that to his girl. He hated the fact that he’d even laid eyes on her.
But right now wasn’t the time to get defensive. It was important that he choose his battles wisely and he was about to deliver some devastating news that Niko was going to hate.
First, though, he had something else on his mind.
“Where’s the old man?”
Niko’s face burned with anger. “My father? You call him Mr. Bianchi. I’m the only one who calls him the old man.”
Marco chuckled, which clearly just got under Niko’s skin even more.
He walked toward the built-in bar and pulled a glass off the shelf while picking up a bottle of bourbon. Pouring a glass, he pondered just how conceited Niko was. Everyone in that room—Marco and the two other men with Niko, Benny and Paul—called Enzo Bianchi Old Man.
Turning, he looked at Paul and Benny. “You boys want a drink?”
Paul, an older man in his early sixties with a large stomach and squatty legs, shook his head. “No thanks, Marco.”
Benny, a middle-aged guy with thinning hair and a lanky frame that didn’t quite support the expensive suit that hung from it, shook his head silently.
Marco didn’t bother asking Niko.
After a gulp of bourbon slid down his throat and warmed his stomach, he turned back to Niko and said, “All right. When you called you said Mister Bianchi would be here. What gives?”
“Come on,” Niko said. “You know he hates the club. And I didn’t say he’d be here. I said he’s calling this meeting. Which he did. Not that I have to explain that to you. You’re a lieutenant.”
Marco tossed back the rest of his drink. “Cut the shit, Niko. You’re jealous of my relationship with the old man, fine. I can’t do anything about that. But I want to know what this is all about.”
“I’m jealous?” Niko nearly hollered.
“Guys, guys,” Paul said, stepping between the two men even though they hadn’t gotten very close to one another. “We’ve got a war brewing with the cartel and you two want to fight each other? Come on. We need a united front here.”
Marco thought about it. “I’m sorry, Paulie. You’re right.”
Niko nodded.
That was probably as close as that asshole would ever get to admitting someone else’s view was correct over his, Marco figured.
It didn’t matter. Soon, Niko wouldn’t be his problem.
“The cartel is what my father wanted me to talk to you three about tonight. A shipment of meth is coming in tonight from Tijuana. He wants you to get it. Round up whoever you need. We have plenty of muscle here at the club. That’s one of the reasons I wanted us to meet here. Just grab whoever.”
“Hold up,” Marco said.
Niko reared his head back. “Hold up? The fuck?”
“I have questions,” Marco said in a gentle tone, hoping to squelch Niko’s rising anger.
“I’ll text you all the details, of course. But it’s going down south of here. Around Sloan Canyon.”
Marco walked back to the bar and thought about pouring another drink but decided against it. While he could hold his liquor—he was six-foot-six after all—he wanted to make sure he kept a clear head.
Putting his glass down, he turned back around and said, “You want us to hit this shipment, as in taking it off the streets, right? Because we’re not in the drug trade and we don’t want anyone in the drug trade on our turf.”
Niko threw his head back and laughed. His eyes darted from Benny to Paul. “Did you hear that? Dudley Do-Right here is worried about the nation’s youth getting hooked on drugs? What, are you on some kind of just-say-no campaign or some shit?”
Marco wanted to bring up that Dudley Do-Right was way before their time and that Niko was clearly spending too much time with his aging father, but he kept that comment to himself.
After all, Niko was the type of guy who listened to Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin, not because he realized they were timeless and still cool, but because he thought it helped him play the part of old-time Vegas mobster a little better.
Ass.
All the previous levity was out of Niko’s voice when he spoke again, stepping closer to Marco.
“Wake the fuck up. Meth is already out there on the streets. Which means someone is making money off it and we’re not.
And I don’t know about you, but I’m in this to make fucking money.
Besides, you got this all wrong. We’re not stealing the cartel’s shipment.
They’re not expected to get theirs here until next week.
Tonight, well, we’re buying it from some Outlaw MC.
They make but don’t deal. Claim it’s too big a hassle.
We, on the other hand, want to deal but won’t make that shit.
So, we’re going to take it off their hands for a flat fee and then get ours out before the cartel can swoop in and snatch up the entire market. ”
“What? Me and your dad spoke about this,” he countered. “Enzo agrees with me. We’re going to take this organization straight. Times are changing. We need to change with them.”
Niko wore that condescending smirk he was so fond of. “Times change? The fuck does times change mean? I’ve got news for you, bud—we’re criminals. And crime never goes out of fashion.”
Marco had never wanted to throw him out the window as much as he did now—and it didn’t matter that they were four stories up.
But he wasn’t really shocked by any of this. Niko had been pushing for this for years, only kept at bay by the old man who was so firmly against it.
Niko and this drug shit was the bane of Marco’s existence. One day, Enzo would be gone and Marco would have to deal with this.
One way or another…
“Hold on, Niko,” Paul said. “Marco has a point here.”
“So, you’re taking his side?”
He sounded like a whining child talking to his mom, for god’s sake.
“I didn’t say that,” Paul said, holding up his hands.
“But I’ve been around this town nearly twice as long as you’ve both been alive.
There’ve been a lot of changes in those years.
In the old days—even before me—when the boys came out from New York and Chicago and set up shop, it was wide open. Our people controlled everything.”
“That’s not true,” Niko shot back. “The Jews had a stake in this. Who do you think built the Flamingo? It was Bugsy Segal.”
Paul shook his head and groaned. “Kid, I’m not talking about that shit.
I mean our people. Who we are and what we do.
This thing of ours that’s been around a lot longer than me or you and will be around long after we’re gone!
” The older man cleared his throat and then took a couple of deep breaths before he continued.
“My point is, in the past, this was our town. We controlled the gambling, the girls, everything. Even the liquor went through us. But now?” He shrugged.
“We’re just a small fish in a really big pond.
And more fish get added all the time. Giant corporations we can’t compete with.
Hell, even movie studios open up their own resorts. ”
Niko nodded. “Exactly, Paulie. Which is why we need to expand. We’ve held back far too long and now we’re just slowly dying out.”
Paul put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “No, Niko. You don’t get it. We need to go legit. Make real money. Good money. The days of the mob running Vegas are over. And they ain’t comin’ back.”
Marco was so thankful to hear that Paul got it. He glanced over at Benny to see him nodding in agreement.
“It doesn’t matter,” Niko said. “My father wants it this way, and he’s still the man at the top. Or have you all forgotten who you work for?”
“No, I remember,” Marco said. “Your father. Not you. Which is exactly why I want to hear this from him.”
Niko was obviously incensed, but after a long minute ticked off the clock, he seemed to have his temper under control. “I told you that he’s not feeling well.”
Marco couldn’t help but snort in contempt.
Niko spread his hands. “What? You don’t believe me?
Fine. Don’t do it. But you’re going to go out and tell the driver that the deal is off.
We’re not just going to stand them up. Contrary to what you might think, this organization still has a reputation to uphold, and we might choose to do business with them in the future. ”
Marco grinned. “A think a simple phone call or text would do.”
“Huh-uh. You want to back out, you go tell ‘em.”
After thinking it over, Marco finally nodded.
It was his penance, he knew, but it was also the right thing to do.
While he didn’t particularly care what a bunch of drug-selling biker-gang thugs thought, the old man might want to keep relations good just in case they could be of further use down the line in some capacity.
Besides, it was best not to make too many enemies. They might be angry enough about the deal falling through. There was no reason to add disrespect to their list of grievances.
“Fair enough.”
“You still need to take some muscle,” Niko said. “Could be dangerous.” There was a faint gleam in his eyes, as if he hoped tonight’s apology mission was in fact quite dangerous.
“I’ll come with you,” Benny said.
“Me, too,” Paul chimed in. “And we’ll get some guys from downstairs to tag along.”
“Sure,” Marco said. “Let me run Kelsey home and?—”
“I’ll get her home,” Niko said.
Like hell you will, Marco thought.
He was about to voice that when Niko cut him off, saying, “You barely have time to make it out there as it is. You need to get moving. Don’t worry, I might find you to be a royal pain in the ass, but I know the code.”
Marco knew the code, too: wives, girlfriends, and children were never to be harmed in any way. They might have all been a bunch of gangsters, but honor was one thing from the old days that hadn’t gone out of style.
“I’ll see that your ladies get home safely, too,” Niko told Paul and Benny. “I’ll put three guys on it. That enough?”
The men exchanged glances and then nodded.
“All right. Take one of the SUVs downstairs. Let ‘em know that we might be interested in the future. Whatever you do, don’t burn any bridges. But don’t fuckin’ promise anything, either.”
Marco flashed him a humorless grin. “You know this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve done this before.”
“Well, I’m giving you a reminder,” Niko said, eager to throw his weight around.
It made Marco laugh. Technically, Marco outranked him on the org chart—if they’d had an official one. But being the big man at the top’s son, well… Niko had quite an inflated view of himself and his place in the Family.
“All right. Let me go tell my girl what’s going on,” Marco said.
“Yeah, I need to talk to Silvia,” Paul said, referring to his wife.
Benny was coming behind them, too, no doubt ready to tell his girlfriend what was going on.
Or maybe she was his wife now, Marco thought. It was hard to tell with Benny. He’d been married five times. Some of those relationships overlapped, too. No one could keep them all straight—not even Benny himself!
As Marco left the room, he could feel Niko’s eyes on him.
Damn. Something about all this just didn’t set right. Should Marco turn around and tell him right then and there that he was out? That tonight was it for him?
Nah. I just need to do this one last mission. Afterward I’ll tell him, then I’ll get sweet Little Kelsey out of here for good!
The thought made Marco smile.
Just one more night. And then we’re home free.
He just prayed this last night went smoothly. But something told him trouble was out there waiting for him.
Big trouble…