Chapter 23 #2
“You have ears inside his house?” Micah rumbles. “In his private rooms?”
“The FBI has ears in his house,” she counters.
“And in some of his clubs. In his car. They think they’re sneaky and slick, planting bugs around the man who controls the city, but all they really do is open him up to security breaches and create a gaping hole in his technological lines of defense.
Despite what most people think, the feds aren’t looking to shut men like Cordoza down.
Organized crime keeps almost every economy chugging, and, for as long as Cordoza’s at the helm—a man who leads with fairness and common sense—the city is better for his presence. ”
“They listen, so they know what’s happening,” Tiia confirms. “They’re not looking to put him away.”
“The feds make it insanely easy for me to piggyback on their efforts,” Soph continues.
“Every access they have, I have. Every conversation they listen to, sits transcribed in my email inbox. For as long as Cordoza maintains control of the city, keeping bloodshed off the streets and the wars reminiscent of the sixties and seventies under wraps, there isn’t a badge anywhere who’ll touch him. ”
“But how does any of this involve us?” I groan. “Cordoza created an enemy of the Malones this week, Soph. He used us, and then he intentionally pushed me and Minka apart. For what purpose?”
Aubree shoots her hand in the air, schoolgirl style, and draws everyone’s eyes. “I admit limited knowledge within this world, but can we not look at what’s right in front of us?”
“What?” Soph questions. “What’s right in front of us?”
“Cordoza, Agosti, Pastore, Mancino, Malone. There are probably other families too, but these are the main five, right? They’re the five families that’ve maintained power for decades.
But now Mancino is gone.” She ticks one name off with a lifted finger.
“Pastore is gone.” A second finger. “Agosti’s bloodline ended last weekend. ”
“That leaves Cordoza… and us,” Tim sighs. “You think he wants a clean slate?”
“But that makes no sense,” Felix declares.
“We take nothing from him by existing. We make him money. We help him control the city. He demanded I come for dinner a few nights ago, and the whole time, he was making plans for the future. Plans that included me. Every decent CEO knows they can’t run an entire organization on their own.
They need middle and lower management to carry some of the weight. ”
“He has an untapped space for these discussions,” Soph inserts. “There’s no way he’s making moves and fucking everyone over without talking it through first. Even if he’s keeping it small, he’s got a space none of us know about.”
“Wouldn’t that fall under your responsibility?” Felix snaps. “The all-seeing, all-knowing Sophia Solomon. It’s your job to collect the intel.”
“Dude! I don’t think you understand who the hell I am.
I’m just a dance teacher who enjoys poking at everyone else’s business occasionally.
My motivation used to revolve around my sister’s murder, but she’s right here with me now, married and pregnant and so damn happy, it makes all the rest of this shit not worth the trouble.
As far as I’m concerned, switching off my computer permanently and heading back into the dance studio sounds like a damn good idea to me.
Then we can—” The sound of a phone trilling echoes through the line, cutting Soph off and casting a cloud of dread over the top of us all. “Minka… that’s…”
Minka stiffens on my lap. “What?”
“That’s your phone, Mayet. It’s Cordoza.”
“I don’t know where my phone is!?” She bounds off my lap and spins in a panicked circle. “Where’s my bag? Where’s my stuff?”
“I’ve got my phone,” Cato declares, stalking around the counter and placing it down beside Tim’s. “Can you send the call through to my phone?”
“Yeah, I can…” Soph taps-taps-taps at her computer keyboard. Then, like fuckin’ magic, Cato’s screen illuminates and Cordoza’s name flashes for attention. “Answer it, Mayet. Play along. See what the hell he wants.”
“On speaker,” Felix snaps. “We all wanna hear.”
“Everyone needs to shut the hell up,” Sophia demands. “He pulled you and Archer apart for a reason, Mayet. He’ll wanna know his efforts achieved something. Take the call, see what he wants, and then we’ll proceed.”
Minka’s eyes come to mine, her cheeks, too fucking pale already, somehow drain whiter. Her jaw trembles, and her hands shake.
I reach across and hook my arm around her hips, dragging her forward and stopping only when her chest clashes against mine.
“I’m right here.” I pinch her chin between my finger and thumb. “I’m not going anywhere, no matter what.”
“I’m getting kinda anxious over here!” Felix snarls. “Excuse me. Hi!? Answer the fucking phone.”
Swallowing, Minka sweeps up the device and swipes with a fast slide of her thumb, then she sets the call on speaker and exhales a shaking, aching breath. “Mr. Cordoza?” She closes her eyes, tilting her head back until her face is pointed to the ceiling. “This is Chief Mayet.”
“Chief Mayet.” The prick. The smug, life-ending, cruel bastard speaks with a smile in his voice. “How are you?”
“I-I’m well.” She swallows again to combat the croak in her words. “And you?”
“I’m well enough. Thank you for asking.” He settles back in a chair, the frame groaning under his weight, and when the unmistakable click of a cigarette lighter plays through the line, he noisily inhales and hums his appreciation.
Stunned, I swing my eyes to Tim’s.
“I know you’re a busy woman, Chief. I, too, have an extensive list of things I must get through, so I’m going to cut to the chase. I’m inviting you to dinner.”
Minka’s gaze swings wildly back to mine. “Dinner?”
“Tomorrow night. I understand this is late notice, and I know traveling across the country is no easy feat, but I insist. There are things I wish to discuss as a matter of urgency. Bring Doctor Emeri, too.”
With a quiet growl, Tim sweeps Aubree clear off her seat, stuffing her behind his back and shaking his head.
“D-doctor Emeri?” Minka stutters. “Sir? Are you asking for medical examiners, or—”
“I’m asking for Minka Mayet and Aubree Emeri. Your education and vocation are mildly relevant.”
“Mr. Cordoza, sir—”
“I’m not asking,” he growls. “I’ll send a plane in the morning. Your safety while in my city is guaranteed, so you can assure Timothy the Third he needn’t fret. I apologize for my terseness, Chief, but time is limited.”
“But—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Without another word, he kills the call and leaves us in a world of complete and utter silence.
For a second, anyway.
Then Tim explodes.
“Absolutely fucking not!” He brings Aubree around, his furious grip marking her arms. “No. I’m not sending you to New York to dine with the fucking don, not after this shit he’s pulled with Minka and Archer.”
“But he—”
“No!”
Another phone rings, a different ringtone.
“He’s calling me.” Soph’s voice hardens. It thickens. “I’ll call you all back in a s—”
“Take it on speaker!” Felix booms. “You’re in this now, Solomon, so either you’re one of us, and he’s inviting you to dinner too, or you’re with him, and he’s calling to update you on whatever it is you’ve cooked up together.
My trust is in the basement of Hades right now, because I thought that bastard was my friend.
Answer the call,” he grits out. “Put it on speaker.”
“Fine,” she huffs. “Everyone be quiet.” The phone silences, then Soph answers, “Estefan. This is Sophia.”
“Sophia.” Just like he does with Minka, he makes his voice turn to butter. A gentle croon and kindness none of the rest of us ever get when he speaks to us. “I know you’re a busy woman. However, I’m hosting a dinner tomorrow night. I wish for you to attend.”
She allows the silence to hang for a loaded beat. Unlike Minka, who wears her every thought on her sleeve, Soph long ago mastered the art of negotiation. “Tomorrow… in New York?” She hums her uncertainty in the back of her throat. “I appreciate the invitation. Unfortunately, I’m not sure if I can—”
“Clear your schedule. I’ll send a plane. Bring your sister.”
“My sister?” Soph’s cool, collected veneer cracks in an instant. “Impossible. We traveled last weekend, Estefan. My sister is pregnant and resting now that we’re back, which means I have no interest in dragging her anywhere, no matter the reason.”
“The women in my life prove, once again, to be the reason this old man suffers headaches.” He sucks on his cigarette and exhales a groan. “Doctor Mayet tried declining, too.”
“Doctor Mayet?” Soph plays dumb, her tone perfectly conveying surprise. “You asked Minka to come to dinner, too? Who else—”
“I wish for the four of you to be on that plane tomorrow, Ms. Solomon. Michelle will understand and, eventually, forgive.”
“W-what is there to forgive? What happened?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night. And don’t bring your husbands. They’re not invited.”
“But—”
“Goodbye.”