11. Basilio #3
While he roamed around his house weapon free, I always had my gun on me. When I slept, it was either on my nightstand or under my pillow. You never knew when the attack was coming.
“You wanted to see us,” I told him coldly.
“Yes, let’s go into my office.” He turned around and headed down the hallways, which led to the back of the house where his office was. He expected us to follow him like dogs and I fucking hated it.
Dante and I shared the briefest of glances but said nothing. We knew better than to say anything in front of him.
Once in his office, I shut the door behind me and shoved both of my hands into the pockets of my pantsuit. It was easier to hide the urge to punch my father that way. I leaned against the marble ledge of the fireplace, keeping my composure relaxed and expression bored.
Dante did the same, except he sat down and rested his ankle on his knee as he leaned back in his chair with an equally bored expression.
My father sat behind his desk, his eyes darting between the two of us. He liked to show his power, as well as exercise it. Though he was too blind to see that it was slowly slipping through his fingers. He was too arrogant, too sure that he was invincible.
Neither Dante or I broke the silence. He wanted to see us squirm, but we weren’t little boys anymore. We had done and seen our share of brutality and silence didn’t bother us in the slightest. Except let me contemplate a few more creative ways to kill him.
I held his expression, hiding all my plans and turmoil deep down where he’d never see it. After all, I had two decades to perfect it. My old man liked to taunt and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“The Russians attacked Brennan,” Father finally broke the silence, a benevolent smile on his lips. “They believe he has something of theirs.”
“What’s that?” I asked, hiding my curiosity behind a bored tone.
“A woman,” he muttered with a dark expression.
A woman would be my father’s downfall. Too bad she couldn’t get here already.
“I’m sure Brennan has many women at his disposal,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “Do we have specifics?”
“She’s the great-granddaughter of a powerful Pakhan,” he grumbled, bitterness in his voice.
“Both her mother and her daughter are supposed to be dead.” Dante and I shared a glance, but neither one of us uttered a word.
It was best not to let Father know we knew anything.
“The rumor is that both mother and daughter are alive and well, hiding from the underworld. The Pakhan wants to get them back.”
“Why does it sound like you want to find them before the Pakhan?” I asked dryly.
“It would give us an upper hand,” he said, the cruel and dark expression I have come to know well lurking in his eyes. “Not only over the Russians, but also the Irish.”
God, he made me sick. My fingers twitched, the need to pull out my gun and put a bullet between his eyes so strong that my muscles brimmed with tension.
If we did find the lost Russian mafia princesses, I’d ensure they disappeared before he’d ever put his hands on them.
I wouldn’t repeat the same mistake as with Thalia.
If that one would let me help her, I’d have her gone too.
“What’s the kid’s name?” I asked. “How old is the girl?”
“She’d be about twenty,” Father drawled. “Her mother was a fine piece of ass. I’m sure her daughter is too. It’s in their fucking genes.”
My hands curled into fists, the guilt from long ago curling in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t save my own mother, maybe I could save this woman and her child. At least from my old man.
“Brennan nor the Russians are our concern,” I told him. “If we find or hear anything, we’ll follow the lead.”
But only to secure her away from the fucker.
It made my stomach churn to think what my father would do to the women.
What he did to Thalia. That dreaded fear that my mother’s words would turn into truth always lurked deep in my mind.
Yes, cruelty ran in my veins. It was beaten into me, but it was where I drew the line.
I wouldn’t harm an innocent woman. Cross me and I’d make you pay.
“This is Brennan’s weak moment,” my father protested. He always wanted to go into attack mode with the Brennans. “We could wipe him and his wretched family off the face of the planet.”
I was surprised Brennan allowed the Russians back into the city if in fact his sister and niece were alive.
Over the last twenty years, the Russians would attack here and there, but it was always sporadic.
They didn’t have a presence in New York.
Not for some years now. Until about three months ago.
From all the intel I had, they bickered with the Russians worse than with DiLustros and he hated our guts.
“It’s not a good time.” Not to mention, I shook my hand and gave him my word, we’d have peace. I refuse to break it.
“We should take advantage of the opportunity and attack Brennan,” Father continued stubbornly. Alert shot up my spine, but I kept my expression unmoving. “He can’t fight us both. We should strike him at his weakest.”
He let his rage or jealousy, or whatever the fucking personal vendetta he had going with the Brennans, dictate his behavior.
It made him stupid and reckless. But I’d be damned if I go against my word.
My promise to Liam Brennan was I’d keep to the east side, as long as he kept to the west side of New York City.
I didn’t intend to break my agreement.
“Brennan has alliances,” I told him calmly. “With Cassio King and his gang. Picking a fight with him means going against all of them.”
Father waved his hand like it was nothing. “We have Chicago, Philadelphia, and Vegas to support us.”
I clenched my jaw tightly. There was nothing I wanted to do more than stride over to him and wrap my hand around his throat, then watch that cruel light as it extinguished in his eyes. Just like he extinguished it in my mother’s eyes when he sliced her throat.
But the Syndicate would never accept patricide. If they allow one man to kill his father, then others would follow.
“And Brennan has Cassio King and his gang,” I repeated. “That gang is a lot larger.”
“We have the Syndicate,” he snapped back, slamming his fist on the table and ignoring reason. The bastard never liked to listen to reason. “What do you say, Dante?” he asked my cousin, grinning with a self-satisfied smirk.
“We’re strong,” Dante answered diplomatically, giving him a tight smile. “Albeit we’re currently fighting The Unione Corse in Philadelphia and Canadians in Chicago. Alessio Russo, who’s also tight with Cassio King, has had his sights on us too. It’d be hard to support another fight.”
The Unione Corse was a Corsican mafia. Their home and main operation was in Corsica and Marseille, but they also had a presence in the States. They’d been trying to expand for years, and it was only thanks to Priest and our efforts that they were unsuccessful.
Bottom line, Dante and Priest had their hands full without adding another clusterfuck that could be avoided.
“We need the Brennans gone,” he said in a strange voice, and every single fiber of me stood in alert. “They’ve been a thorn in our side for far too long.”
He narrowed his eyes on me and my muscles tensed. Truthfully, I rarely thought of the Brennans. They didn’t bother me. There were plenty of deals to be made to divide it twenty ways. Liam mainly stuck to his shit and we did our own. Except when fucking Father tried to poke the bear.
I forced myself to relax. I started to think it would be inevitable that one day I’d kill my own father but it couldn’t be today. Not in his own home. I’d have to kill his entire crew and that’d be hard to hide.
“If the Russians are already attacking him, why not let it ride out?” I asked instead, my smile cold. “Let them finish him.”
I stared into his eyes, hammering the point home. My hands itched to draw my gun, but I forced myself to remain immobile.
He narrowed his eyes on me, then on Dante. Could he tell that we all hated his guts? I didn’t think so. Dante was just as good at hiding his emotions as I was. Cruelty ran in DiLustro veins and straight into our hearts.
Then as if he figured us out, Father cackled. “Right you are, Son. We’ll let the Russians finish him off.” Then he gave me that smile I knew so well. The kind that spoke of hell. “Now tell me about this girl Emilia tells me about.”
Anger surged through me. I forced my body to remain motionless or risk flying over his desk and killing him. Emilia had to have told him. She’d pay for that one
“Just a chick I ran into at a club. She’s nobody.” She’s everything . But that sentiment would remain buried deep down so he’d never see it.
He shuffled some papers on his desk, seemingly uninterested but I knew him better than that. He waited for me to slip and give him more information because Emilia had none. It was the only explanation for him knowing about Wynter. That bitch probably hoped to gain some points with the fucker.
“Just remember, Basilio,” he said, raising his eyes and narrowing them on me. “Women are only good for fucking. Don’t forget what happened to your mother.”
Anger simmered under my skin and red mist marred my vision. I was ready to pounce on him and strangle him with my bare hands, when Dante’s voice came through.
“We know that, Uncle. You taught us well.”
Too fucking well.