Chapter Fourteen
ORAZIO
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With Tatum's head still pressed against the table, Orazio scanned the faces staring back at him, taking note of the fear that had settled in their eyes. Good, let them be afraid. These men needed to understand what it meant to cross the Cattaneo family.
"As I said, your only options are death or follow our rules," Raz stated. "Show of hands, who chooses death?" He waited for a hand to go up so he could shoot it down. No one volunteered for target practice. "Who chooses to remain on the board and follow our rules?" Raz asked.
Slowly, hands began to rise. Even the wounded board member raised his hand. Tatum tried to lift his. Raz glanced down when he felt the man move.
"Put your motherfucking hand down," Raz growled. "You shouldn't even be here."
Tatum quickly lowered his hand. Raz looked in his uncle's direction. Uncle Patrick refused to look his way. Raz chuckled. His uncle didn't have to raise his hand. After the stunt he'd pulled by calling this meeting, he was lucky Raz was letting him keep his hands.
When the wounded board member whimpered, Orazio briefly considered shooting him again but decided against it. He needed these people alive, for now, at least. There would be time for retribution later.
"Everyone can lower their hands now," Raz stated.
With a final glare at Tatum, who was still dazed from having his face slammed into the table, Orazio released the man's head and returned to his seat. He noted the glare Tatum sent his way before Tatum lowered his eyes to the table.
That motherfucker was already a dead man, he just didn't know it yet. However, Orazio wouldn't be the one to kill him. He'd let Cas have the honor of doing that. Raz leaned forward in his seat.
"Let's continue with this meeting, shall we?" Orazio announced, his fingers drumming impatiently on the table.
The room remained quiet for a moment before one of the board members, an older man with a shaky voice, spoke up. "We... We need to take Mr. Frillman to the hospital. He's losing a lot of blood. We can reschedule this meeting for another day."
Raz's gaze moved to the man he'd shot. Blood trickled down Mr. Frillman's arm, dripping onto the floor.
"Another day? That won't work. This is an emergency meeting, remember?" Raz drawled. "This meeting must happen today, or the company will fall apart, right? If it hadn't been such an emergency, I'm sure you all would've waited until my father was available to schedule this meeting. Since it had to happen today, let's get it done. If Mr. Frillman is still alive after the meeting, one of you can take him to the hospital. If not, I'll pay for his burial." Raz looked over at Mr. Frillman. "You're okay with that, right, Mr. Frillman?"
Without meeting Raz's gaze, the board member slowly nodded as tears streamed down his face.
"Perfect," Orazio stated as his ice-cold gaze swept over the men seated around the table, daring anyone else to challenge him. "The next person who interrupts the meeting will get two bullets. Understood?"
Heads jerked up and down.
"Let's continue," Raz stated, noting that Leo had just slipped out of the room. "We're here to discuss the company's future and whether our current president should remain in his position or not. I'll start by saying, fuck you and your votes. Fuck your thoughts on the president. Fuck this entire meeting."
Cas chuckled as Rome's fingers flicked over his keyboard.
"Let's get one thing straight," Orazio began. "If there's to be a change in presidency within Cattaneo Corporation, it will be on our family's terms. Not yours."
His gaze cut to his uncle Patrick, a silent demand for confirmation hanging between them. But the older man didn't respond. He just kept staring ahead. Following his uncle's line of sight, Orazio realized Bryce was still aiming his gun at Patrick.
"Bryce, lower your weapon," Orazio commanded.
A pause stretched with neither Bryce nor his father looking away from each other. Neither man moved. Neither man blinked. Something must’ve happened between these two recently because Raz had never seen Bryce look that ready to kill his dad.
"Bryce," Raz started. "Let's show these gentlemen that we can be civilized too."
For a second, Raz didn't know whether Bryce was going to lower the weapon or pull the trigger. Finally, Bryce's arm began its slow descent.
"Alright, Uncle," Raz addressed Patrick again. "Now that you're not under immediate threat of redecorating the walls with your brains, tell me, do you agree that the choice of the president is ours to make and not theirs?"
Patrick remained silent, weighing his options or perhaps calculating who would be the most beneficial to betray: Raz or the board. The eyes of the board members flicked back and forth between Raz and Patrick. But they remained silent, their tongues held hostage by fear.
"Businesses require structure and order...." Patrick began, only to have Orazio cut him off.
"Careful with your words, uncle. Bryce is feeling trigger happy."
From the front of the room, Bryce's eyes remained locked on his father, a storm of unresolved anger swirling within their depths.
Patrick's gaze flicked nervously toward his son, then back to Orazio, whose smile wasn't a reflection of amusement. Raz wasn't amused at all. His smile was more a baring of teeth – a wolfish grin that made his prey uncomfortable.
Shifting in his seat, Patrick said, "I'm just saying a business needs structure. Without structure, it'll collapse."
"It's funny that you're speaking of structure, uncle," Orazio mused, leaning back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. "You dare speak of structure when you've been undermining the family from within. When you've been plotting with snakes like Tatum. When you've been having secret meetings with the board behind the president's back."
The board members shifted uneasily, stealing glances toward Patrick, desperate for some sliver of hope to cling to. They found none. In this room, Patrick was as powerless as they were, and Orazio reveled in stripping him of the illusion of control.
Orazio's father had let his uncle get too comfortable with his bullshit. Orazio was nothing like his father. The board members continued casting glances Patrick's way, hoping he'd help them. Patrick couldn't help them. No one could. Raz started to say more, but Rome leaned over and whispered something in his ear.
In Raz's ear, Rome said, "Leo left to get rid of the bodies we dropped in the restaurant. Also, I've found all the board members' email addresses. I'm sending them a contract to sign since a verbal agreement doesn't mean shit. They'll sign over their rights to be part of how the president and vice president of Cattaneo Corporation is elected in the company."
Raz nodded. Rome went back to clicking on his laptop as Raz addressed the board.
"If you all want a new president for Cattaneo Corp, if you feel my father isn't doing a good job as president, I understand," Raz stated. "The family and I will discuss this, and if we believe my father needs to be replaced, he will be. But this isn't a decision that can be made lightly. Our family will let you know what we decide once we're done talking things over. Any questions?"
Raz waited for someone to speak. When no one did, he said, "It's okay. You won't get shot for speaking your mind right now. Go ahead. Tell me your thoughts. I'm willing to listen. Last chance."
A few of the board members shifted in their seats, looking like they wanted to say something.
It was Mr. Frillman who spoke up. "I agree with whatever Mr. Cattaneo decides. The young Mr. Cattaneo. Not Patrick. If we're done," he whined. "I'd like to go to the hospital now."
The man's eyes briefly drifted shut. Yeah, that one wouldn't be conscious much longer.
Raz pointed to Mr. Frillman and said, "If he dies, it's on you all. Yeah, I shot him. But you all are the ones holding him hostage. This meeting can end as soon as you all agree that my family will control who the president of Cattaneo Corp is and how a president is elected. Do you all agree?"
Their gazes swept to Mr. Frillman.
"P-please," Mr. Frillman whispered.
Slowly, they began to nod their heads.
Raz looked to Rome and asked, "Have you sent it?" Rome nodded. Raz faced the board again and said, "While I do trust you all, a business can't run off verbal agreements alone, right?"
Phones dinged around the room.
"My brother has sent all of you a contract stating that from now on, these kinds of meetings won't be necessary. I'm not saying you all can't meet. But I am saying that you can't meet to discuss hiring or firing a Cattaneo or discussing the role of president at our corporation. Our family will take care of that. As soon as you sign the doc, you can leave. No other board member has to be shot, and no board member has to be killed... today."
The men stared at their phones, seeming reluctant to sign over the power that made them bold enough to have a meeting like this in secret. Raz placed his gun on the table.
"You have five minutes before I start killing everyone who hasn't signed," Raz snarled, voice cold, emotionless.
He was ready to get back to Monique. He didn't have time for this shit. Motherfuckers suddenly remembered how to e-sign docs on their devices. He watched as they scrawled their signatures across their phone screen.
From the corner of his eye, he saw his uncle watching him. Orazio could practically feel the anger rolling off Patrick Cattaneo. His uncle could stay mad. Raz wasn't the reason this was happening. Patrick was. Raz looked over at Frillman, who was still trying to get his phone out of his pocket.
Raz sighed and said, "Someone help Frillman with his phone."
One of the other board members rushed to do Raz's bidding. As he stared around at the board members, he realized this was one circus he didn't want to be the leader of. He didn't know how his father put up with complaining ass men all the time.
He didn't care who took over as president as long as it wasn't his uncle. It damn sure wasn't going to be Raz. He couldn't handle the politics that came with Cattaneo Corp. Plus, he was ready to cut back on working so much so he could spend time with Monique.
As for his father, it was time for the don to retire. Not because these rich fucks wanted him to. But because don Cattaneo had let these rich fucks feel comfortable enough to meet in secret with Patrick behind his back.
Sure, his father was currently detained. But this shit still went down on the don's watch. How many more meetings had they had like this? What had taken his father so long to act? His father had to know something was brewing with them.
That was why he'd gotten Orazio involved in the first place, wanting to work together to take out Tatum. If Raz followed the paper trail, which he would, he was sure Tatum was in the pockets of most of the board members.
Tatum was Patrick's support system. So the don had needed to take Tatum out of the picture and had used the situation with Cas to get Orazio involved. The problem was that the don had involved Monique in his scheme.
Had that not happened, Raz would've helped his father take out Tatum, whip these board members into shape, and let that be that. But because his father had involved Monique, because he'd tried to take her from Raz, because he'd considered her a weakness for Raz, Orazio could no longer let that be that.
Given the chance, his father would come after her again. Raz was left with no choice but to make sure his father didn't have the power to do that. While the don had been getting Monique and her friends kidnapped and having Orazio kidnap the younger Tatum, he should've been stopping the bullshit at the source, Patrick .
Patrick was the don's weakness. His father was always protecting Patrick and covering up shit for Patrick. He'd created the disloyal fuck that was Patrick Cattaneo. This was the don's fault. All of this could've been resolved with little to no bloodshed if the don had simply gotten his brother together.
The don had let this problem grow and fester. Therefore, in Raz's mind, the don was no longer worthy of that title. It was time for him to step down from family don and C. Corp president. Raz's gaze continued to move around the room. He watched the last hesitant board member sign his name.
"Are we all done signing the contract?" Raz asked. A collective yes filled the room. "Perfect. Meeting over. You can all return home. Isn't it better to leave this meeting walking instead of in a body bag?" Another collective yes filled the room.
Raz watched the members rise from their seats. Their gazes kept drifting to him as if they feared he'd shoot them in the back on their way out. That was a cowardly move. If Raz was going to shoot them, he'd do it to their faces. One of the members was kind enough to help Frillman from his seat and toward the door.
When Frillman reached the door, Orazio called out, "Mr. Frillman, what will you say when the doctor asks what happened to you?"
Without looking over his shoulder, Frillman answered, "I'll tell them my wife was cleaning our gun, and it went off. She's rather clumsy. I shouldn't have let her clean it."
"Your wife should be more careful in the future," Raz told him. "She could've killed you. Or herself."
Frillman nodded. "I'll tell her to be more careful. Thank you for your concern, Mr. Cattaneo."
Orazio watched as Mr. Frillman was led from the room. Other than Raz and his team, only Patrick and Tatum remained in the room.
Orazio faced his uncle. "Bryce," Orazio called out. "Escort your father to uncle Carlo's house. Tell uncle to call a family meeting. I'll be there soon."
Bryce nodded, then pointed his gun at his father and said, "Let's go, Patrick ."
There was that tick in Patrick's jaw that let Raz know his uncle was close to losing it.
"You're making a big mistake," his uncle warned, unable to leave the room quietly. "You think those men rushed out of here just because they were frightened?" Patrick laughed. "They rushed out of here so they could plan their revenge. They may look like rich old men to you, but they are some of the most ruthless businessmen I know."
Raz chuckled. "Ruthless, you say? What's a ruthless businessman to a savage? Not shit."
"This isn't over," Patrick snarled. "Don't be surprised if they hire people to come after you. Our family isn't the only family with dark connections."
"Let them send whoever they want to send. I've never been afraid of getting my hands dirty," Raz told him. "And our family has never been afraid of going to war."
Patrick smirked as his gaze drifted from Raz to Cas, to Rome, and then to Bryce.
"What do you babies know about war?" Patrick sneered. "Not shit. I can still smell the breast milk on your breaths when you boys talk. You're still children. None of you have ever been through a real war. Not like my father and grandfather. Not like my brothers and me. You boys aren't ready for the big leagues, and it's showing. You think you've done something here today. You ain't did shit but make things worse. The thing about you younger Cattaneos is," Patrick drawled. "You may be strong when it comes to fighting and getting your hands dirty. But you're soft in other ways."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Raz asked.
"I'm talking about your hearts. I'm talking about your feelings. You young boys want to have it all: the money, the respect, the fear, and love. You don't date for business reasons. No. You actually love the women you date. That makes you weaker than the rich fucks who were just in here."
Raz's smile faded, and a chill crept down his spine. "What the fuck does love have to do with this?"
"Everything," Patrick replied, smile widening. "You all think you've taught me and the board a lesson. Get ready, little boys. Because school is still in session. I've got a feeling you boys won't be able to handle this next class."
A ding sounded from Rome's computer. Raz looked his brother's way. The look on Rome's face sent dread coursing through Orazio's veins.
"What's wrong?" Raz asked his brother.
"I bugged the email I sent to the board members so that once it was opened, I'd have access to the device the email was sent to. I can now track the board members' texts and calls. This is a text one of the members just sent."
Rome turned the laptop so Raz could read the message.
The message read, 'Find out everything you can on President Cattaneo's sons. I want to know where they live, where they hang out, and who they're fucking. I'm going to rain down hell on those little bastards. They gave me a gift today. I want to gift them their loved ones' heads in a box. Make it happen now.'
The email was sent from Mr. Frillman. Fuck! Raz saw red as Patrick Cattaneo's laughter filled the air.
"Ring, ring," Patrick yelled. "The school bell has rung. Have a seat, boys. Your next class has just begun."