Chapter Forty-Eight
Achilles
“We need to take Sangue Blu and his first-rankers out.” I set my glass of whiskey down on the table. “This has been going for too long. Our business is suffering.”
“This time, we’re shutting down his entire operation.” Enzo tossed his knife in the air, catching it with his fingertips. “I ain’t hauling ass in and out of Naples weekly to deal with the Coppola clan. I’ve got important shit to do.”
“Oh? Like what?” Luca folded his legs, the sharp crease in his trousers immaculate. “Hitting the gym twice a day and living off protein shakes and brussels sprouts?”
“For instance?” Enzo brushed off the dig.
My baby brother was an interesting creature. He’d die before making someone he cared for disappointed or sad but had no trouble taking down eighty men in the span of twenty-four hours.
“Enzo’s right.” I ran a hand over my tie. “We’re going around in circles with them, and we have more pressing issues here in the States. The Bratva’s getting bolder.”
“The union between Enzo and Katya is supposed to fix that,” Luca grumbled.
“That’s not happening for at least four months,” Enzo pointed out. “Katya has requested to finish her freshman year at college. A lot can happen in that time.”
Luca ran a hand over his mouth. “You wanna wipe them out? Fine. We will. But if we want to keep shit in order in Naples, one of us will have to move there.”
“I’ll do it,” I said without missing a beat.
“You’ll move to Naples?” Enzo cocked his head sideways.
“Yeah.”
“And Tierney?”
“She’ll move with me.”
She wanted to get away from all the hustle and bustle of New York, and this was a good opportunity to offer her that. Plus, I was tired of having to share her with all the clingy-ass people in our lives—Lila, Sofia, Tiernan, and the rest.
“All right, Achilles’s in.” Luca threaded his fingers together. “We need to be quick about finishing Coppola’s clan, though. Our eyeballs should be on the Midwest. Alex has taken over Des Moines, I hear.”
“Or we could wait until Alex is power-drunk and tries conquering Chicago. That’d pull the Outfit into our war.” Enzo ran his knife shallowly along his palm. “The Bandinis won’t let that happen, right?” Enzo searched Luca’s face. They were his in-laws, after all.
“Hard to tell. President Keaton is breathing down their necks, wanting to take them down before his first term is over.” Luca’s tongue skated over his lower lip. “They’re trying to keep their heads down at all costs.”
“Fuck,” Enzo muttered.
“There’s another way around the Bratva.” I pressed my fingers together. “It’ll delay them, not stop them, but it could give us a couple years.”
Luca curved a skeptic brow. “I’m listening.”
Time to figure out just how much of a cold fish you are, Brother.
“Lyosha sent an offer through Jeremie. He’s willing to give us everything east of Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, and the Dakotas.”
“That means they’ll have to pull out of the newly conquered parts.” Enzo shifted forward in his seat, lighting up.
I nodded. “They’ll hand over some weapons, too.”
“What’s the tradeoff?” Luca drawled.
“Jeremie wants to stay in New York,” I said tonelessly. “As your wife’s bodyguard.”
Not a flicker of emotion was present on Luca’s face. His eyes were two dark pools of venom. No light and nothing behind them. Dead.
Jeremie was right.
He didn’t give half a shit.
The silence stretched for another full minute before Luca spoke again. “Tell me about the weapons they’re offering.”
Holy psychotic shitballs.
I had a lot to aspire to. Yes, I was violent and murderous, and didn’t have a drop of morality in my entire body, but at least I was capable of feeling.
If someone wanted to touch Tierney—let alone babysit her while I was gone—I’d be killing them six ways from Sunday just to make sure the job was done.
Enzo and I exchanged looks. Our eyes said the same thing.
Luca was going to be the new don.
He deserved it.
He crossed every personal and professional line to get there, and he was pragmatic, cold, and calculating enough to make good decisions.
Clearing my throat, I went back to business. “Firearms, grenades, state-of-the art rifles—the kind that can pierce a row of refrigerators. You know, the works.”
“Military issue?”
“With the serial numbers filed off beyond recovery,” I assured him.
The Russians had a lot of weapons the Camorra could only dream of. They were prolific arms dealers, while our forte was drugs and money laundering.
“And what guarantees will we have about them honoring the new borders?” Luca rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.
I shrugged. “We’ll figure out the fine print together.”
“And Katya?” Enzo asked. “Do I still have to marry her?”
“Yes,” Luca and I said in unison. We needed family ties with the Bratva. For our blood to mix with theirs. “Jeremie’s babysitting gig is not gonna last more than a few weeks, until we’re sure we’ve eliminated the Coppola clan,” Luca added. “We still need to break bread with the Russians.”
“Should I call Jeremie?” I asked.
“No. We’re negotiating this directly with Alex,” Luca snarled. “Get the pakhan on the phone.”
I took out my phone, checking first to see if Tierney had messaged me again.
Tierney: What’s your weird fixation with me and coffee?
Achilles: That’s random.
Tierney: So is the fact that you’ve always asked me to make you some.
Not recently, though. Not since our reconciliation. I cared too much to screw this up for a fucking Cup A Joe.
Achilles: It symbolizes domestic bliss to me.
She typed, then deleted, then typed again.
I should’ve lied to her. Told her I just liked caffeine because coke was too destructive a hobby.
I didn’t want to scare her away. But I also knew I couldn’t keep this all-consuming hunger for her on a leash much longer.
I’d agreed to stop the stalking. I’d never agreed to stop obsessing, though.
Fearing my answer would annihilate all the goddamn progress I’d been working on these past few weeks, I changed the subject.
Achilles: There’s a special edition of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy in my office, if you’re bored.
Tierney: Already found/read it but thanks.
Phew. Although, it had to be said—I wasn’t thrilled that a cup of coffee could throw our entire relationship into a crisis. Especially a hypothetical one. I mean, goddamn.
Tierney: Do I want to know why the crown molding in your office has bloodstains all over it?
Achilles: No…?
Tierney: I cleaned them up.
Achilles: I love you.
Tierney: We should probably power wash the entire apartment.
Achilles: I said I love you.
Tierney: Shut up and take me to dinner when you’re back.
I grinned like a lunatic.
Achilles: You got it, baby. Put something slutty on. I’m in the mood to get in a fight.
After calling Alex and working over the fine print of the very generous deal the Bratva offered us—with me wondering just how much credit Jeremie had to use to wrestle his brother into this deal—we killed the call.
“Luca…” Enzo trailed off.
“Yeah?”
“Jeremie…”
“They’re not fucking,” he said dryly, but for the first time, there was some tightness in his voice. “He’s a stammering fool in front of her. And she’s frightened of his size, his presence. She doesn’t trust humans, you know. Only horses. Nothing’s going on between them.”
“If you know she is scared of him, why are you doing this?” I asked.
“Because I don’t give a shit how she feels,” he said simply. “And he will keep her safe.”
“What about pride?”
Luca ran a hand over his jawline, his wedding band catching the sunlight pouring in the window. “Pride is a sin.”
Enzo choked on his vodka soda. “Bitch, so is murder, and I don’t see you stopping your violent killing sprees anytime soon.”
“Stay in your lane, Enzo,” Luca said quietly. “Jeremie’s the best the Bratva has to offer. He’ll keep her safe. And me? I’ll finally have my kingdom.”