4. ~Nico~
4
~Nico~
What was going on?
Why hadn’t Caterina struck back against me yet?
It had been almost two weeks since I’d made my move.
Normally, she didn’t take more than a couple of days to respond in kind.
She was well. I knew that for a fact, because I obviously had eyes on her.
Was that it, then? After three years, had she just walked away from our little war?
If she thought for one second that I’d allow that to happen, that she could just turn her back on it, on me , without a word—
“What’s that deeply etched frown for?”
I blinked out of my thoughts and looked up from the documents in my hands to see Milo lifting a sharp brow at me.
“Earnings are up fourteen percent from last quarter. You’re also leading the other two Capos as usual. Cassio’s only up seven percent and that shithead, Giovanni, is sitting at a weak-ass two, even with his territory boasting weapons shipments.”
Weapons shipments. That was part of the issue. Especially the fact that Gio wasn’t earning for the Family the way my father wanted. As much as I wasn’t a fan of Gio and his reactive and shortsighted approach to being Capo, this particular situation wasn’t entirely on him. My father’s ridiculous expectations that he’d rolled out at our last meeting were nearly impossible, even for me to live up to. And everyone knew I was the best out of all three of us. I’d always reigned supreme over them.
“It’s not enough,” I muttered, sinking back in my leather desk chair and eyeing Milo across the desk of my home office. “Twenty-five percent was the stipulated expectation.”
“ Unreasonable expectation is more like it.”
“Whether it is or isn’t, it’s a directive.”
He nodded. “From on high, got it.” He shifted his weight on his chair. “We could double the protection money we charge to—”
“No. I’m not doing that. It’s already been increased enough over the last few years. It could break them, weaken their enforced loyalty to us, and push them to going to the other families, which would risk destabilization.”
“Then we secure another couple of buyers for our coke operations.”
“I’m already looking into it, searching for viable buyers who can remain discreet and not distribute dangerously and conspicuously, as some dealers are known to do.” I sank back against my chair. “But that’s not the focus of my concern.”
“The military-grade weapons deal Marco’s been trying to lockdown?”
I nodded. Then I lifted my laptop and put it down in front of him. “Take a look at this. It’s everything I’ve found.”
He raised an eyebrow and started studying the data it had taken me a long time to compile, ever since rumors had reached me about my father’s intention to go this foolish route. There had been so much cloak-and-dagger bullshit involved that it had been like pulling teeth to obtain anything whatsoever—at least at first.
Marco Marchetti was becoming unhinged.
That had become more apparent to me than ever when I’d found out that this deal that had been on the table involved him partnering with a literal madman.
Mercenary leader, Malcolm Lynch.
It would involve the Marchetti Syndicate moving from dealing in street-level weaponry to military-grade arms. The idea itself came with its share of issues, not least of which would be risking exposure and gaining the unwanted attention of the Feds. The smooth, careful, and strategic way we ran our other illegitimate operations ensured we kept off their radar. But the deal that he was working with Lynch would fly in the face of all of that. It would jeopardize the Family. All in the name of his greed.
We had a truce with the Leones and the Benzinos, but if that deal went through, it would risk that, destabilizing the balance, and coming very close to an actual call to war. There were very clear terms established and allying with somebody like Lynch and venturing into the likes of military-grade weapons would definitely violate said terms.
So I was trying to put a stop to it.
However, it was much easier said than done, especially without revealing my involvement in nixing such a lucrative business arrangement.
“No longer rumors,” Milo uttered, looking up at me from the laptop screen, his worry about the entire fucked-up thing coming through loud and clear. “You’ve got enough here now to prove his intention to get into business with this creepy covert organization, Osiris .”
“Yes. A deal is even on the table now. A few more weeks and it will be solidified, things will already be in operation.”
“The leader of this outfit is a psychopath.”
I nodded. “Malcolm Lynch.”
“An enemy of Roman Knight’s. He kidnapped his son, for fuck’s sake, did some messed-up shit to him, too.”
“And the girl who was taken along with him, yes.”
“He was run underground.”
“Worse, he was believed to be dead. Hence it being so difficult to get solid intel, and why the intel I do have is all over the place, bits and pieces. And why I can’t pin him down, or even his allies either, or identify the members of his organization. All we know so far is that Malcolm Lynch is the leader of Osiris and that my father has a deal on the table to trade in military-grade weapons. He admitted to working on such a deal during the last Summoning of the Capos , as he likes to call it, but he didn’t mention who he was intending to partner with. That I found when I accessed some of these coded communications off his desktop.”
“Thanks to Cassio causing a distraction so you could do so.”
“Yes.” Fortunately, Cassio was on my side when it came to this. Unlike Gio, who was basically up the Underboss’s ass and shared his reckless and shortsighted view on where we needed to take the Marchetti Syndicate. A view that said Underboss—my uncle, Leo—had infected my father with.
“There are too many missing variables for me to work my tech skills to solve this. I mean, I can decrypt some of this shit, but it won’t do much without being able to piece together the bigger picture.” He eyed me worriedly. “Not to mention, if you get involved directly beyond this, you’ll expose yourself. Marco will know it’s you trying to derail this major deal of his.”
“Through this investigation, I was able to discover that we’re not the only ones concerned about Lynch’s activities. We’re not the only ones who know he’s still alive and trying to make one hell of a comeback.”
“Roman Knight?”
I shook my head. “His son, Levi.”
“Levi? You’re serious? That wildcard? He’s a college kid.”
“He’s a lot more than that. In fact, he wants Lynch in the ground. Desperately. We can use that.”
He nodded along. “Have him do the dirty work so we’re not exposed in this.”
“Precisely. While I’d much rather do it myself, it’s not possible with the current climate or the restrictions we find ourselves bound by.”
“It’s still a risk, Nico.”
“It’s a much greater risk if this partnership between Lynch and my father is solidified.”
“Fuck,” he groused. “It’s a good thing Julian’s sorted the Reincourt Construction deal, because if this goes south, we might be needing it much sooner than we even figured. I mean, even if we manage to wipe Lynch off the board and ruin this deal, he’s not the only one Marco could partner with. This, the directive, and the general way Marco’s been since your mom died, is unsustainable. It’s only a matter of time before shit hits the fan in a way it hasn’t since that nightmare five years ago when the three families went to war. We might not be able to save things here. Marco could actually turn on you.”
“You mean more than he already has by making my reckless uncle Underboss?”
“Yeah, Leo’s still dreaming of the days of street battles and war, believing the Marchetti Syndicate can reign supreme over the other families.”
“The only way that could happen would be to decimate them and wipe them from the board entirely. The casualties and the collateral damage would be unfathomable.”
“Not to mention, those of us who survived a bloody war like that would end up in fucking jail.”
It had been bad enough what had been lost the last time around. It had been personal for Milo especially, because both his parents had been caught in the crossfire and lost their lives. His father had actually been Underboss at the time too, so Milo’s dislike for his father’s replacement in Leo was even more justified.
“Well, at least Leo is currently leashed.”
“How long that remains the case is the concern, though.”
“I don’t disagree. But right now, we focus on this immediate issue. Then we deal with the rest.”
Before we could get further into it, my phone buzzed on the desktop, cutting into our conversation.
I snatched it up and took in the flashing red alert filling my screen.
It was one of many that I’d had Milo, with his tech savvy, set up to flag any movement near Marchetti Holdings warehouses on my territory.
I opened up the alert and analyzed all the data available, the fact that activity had been flagged at Warehouse MH14, one of our coke storage facilities. The timing was more than a little suspicious also given that a shipment was scheduled to leave there tonight en route to one of our major buyers.
As I reviewed the surveillance footage, I took in a sea of crimson hoodies, a dozen of them. Those telltale black snakes were embroidered on the front and back of each one, stupidly giving away their identities.
“The Red Vipers,” I ground out. A stupid name for an equally stupid gang that thought they had the meat to become up-and-comers in the criminal underworld. They were mere fools. They’d already crossed the Benzinos through their incompetence and lack of understanding of our world. They’d attempted to extort several businesses under Benzino protection, which had resulted in them being brutalized and given one hell of a warning. They had been fortunate that Carlo Benzino had been in a benevolent mood at the time and allowed them that mistake.
Yet, now here they were on my territory.
We were beyond warnings now.
“Looks like they’re having trouble figuring out the best way to break in,” Milo said, and I looked across the desk to see him with his phone now out too, tapping into the alert. “That’s fucking weak.” He shook his head to himself, pitying them. “Still a threat, though. You want me to hit up Rocco to handle it?”
I pocketed my phone and rose to my feet. “No. I’ll take it.”
“What?” he asked, as he rose with me. “It’s smalltime. An annoyance more than anything. These guys are ill-equipped, to say the least.”
Were they?
I mean, yes, on the surface, that seemed to be the case.
But the timing of this kept nagging at me.
It obviously wasn’t public knowledge when our shipments took place. That information was only known amongst the three families, largely so we didn’t end up overlapping one another. That, combined with the fact that the Red Vipers had collided with the Benzinos, had a whole lot of suspicion sparking.
I fucking hoped I was wrong and just being unduly paranoid because of the precarious nature of things.
“They may not be acting alone.”
“You think they were sent there to fuck with us?”
“Only one way to find out.”
“This might be the beginning of what you predicted when Marco tried to make that fucked-up deal with those mercenaries.”
“Let’s hope it’s not.”
“And if it is?”
“Then we’re all in a fuck load of trouble.”