Chapter 24 - Joseph
“Yes, sir. We arrived this morning to a mess. There are three men severely injured. A large portion of stock has been destroyed,” he tells me, and I grip the phone tighter, clenching my jaw and squeezing my eyes shut as I press my fingers against them.
“Fuck,” I groan. “Why didn’t the alarm go off last night?” I ask. I have a state-of-the-art security system at that warehouse; something should have triggered.
“I don’t know, sir. We’re looking into everything now. I’ll have a report for you by lunchtime. First, I want to get these men some help and put out a few fires,” he sighs.
I don’t blame him for sounding exhausted. Another attack, so soon after the last one, while I was away.
This is getting out of hand now.
“You deal with that, I’m going to start upping our investigation to catch the bastard who is behind all of this,” I say.
“Very good, sir. I’ll call you later when I’ve had a chance to properly look around,” he says.
The call ends, and I stand frozen for a moment with my eyes staring blankly out of the upstairs office window, across the calm lake. It’s a windless day. The heat is ten times worse when there isn’t a breeze to carry some of it away.
Sighing, I clench my jaw and rub my temples. There is a headache brewing right behind my eyes. There’s so much going on lately, and I’m getting sick of dealing with Misha and his attacks.
I’m going to have to triple my efforts to catch him in the act. It’s the only way to prove undeniably that it’s him and take him down without backlash from the other families.
I dial my head of security at the mansion. He’ll be somewhere on the property, but it’s faster to call him on the phone.
“Blake, I need you to assemble a team right away. This task supersedes anything else you have going on. Do you understand?” I say.
“Yes, sir. What are we doing?” he asks.
“Misha Baburin is still in Chicago and has attacked another of my warehouses. I want twenty-four-seven eyes on him. You’ll have two guys following him at all times, and they can work in a rotating team of six men.
There isn’t to be a second when we don’t know where he is, what he’s doing, and who he’s with.
I want to know what he eats for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I want a report if he so much as sneezes. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal clear, sir. Within the hour, I will have the team put together and active,” he says.
The call ends, and I shove my phone into my back pocket.
“We’ll get you, Misha. You can’t keep getting away with this.
Your time is up,” I mutter. I tried to do things the nice way.
I tried to go and speak to him. I even gave him a chance to tell his side of the story to prove Artur wrong.
But in the end, Artur was right, and Misha needs to learn a lesson or two about thinking he’s above everyone else.
He can’t do whatever he wants and get away with it.
I walk back to my desk and sit down, ready to focus on renewing my defense plans around the warehouses. If I can put together a new security system, all of the guys in my alliance can set it up at their properties as well. Good defense is the first offense.
I need to figure out how Misha got around the system I have in place.
I’m hyper-focused on my work when my phone rings, dragging me out of deep concentration.
A glance at the screen knots my stomach tightly, instantly sending a chill down my spine.
Paul Gregori. My father.
I’ve been waiting for him to rear his ugly head for such a long time, but why does it have to be now?
“Paul,” I mutter as I answer the phone.
“My son, it’s been so long. How are you keeping? I hope things are well?” he says, friendly and fake.
“What do you want?” I snap. “Let’s skip the pretense and get right to it.”
“I expected more of a happy reunion for your father, but alright, maybe I caught you on a bad day,” he chuckles.
“What do you want, Paul?” I snap again.
“I want to take you out to dinner. We can catch up, have a chat. It’ll be good for us to get together. What day can you see me? Tonight? I’ll book us a private booth at Le’Surge?”
I flex my jaw, agitated and wanting this call to end.
“No, I’m not meeting you tonight or any night. Look, I’ve got things to do. Have a good day, Paul,” I say, ready to hang up.
“You can bring Maria if you like?” he says loudly into the phone, giving me pause.
He knows about Maria. Fuck.
The only reason he would ever mention her name is in the form of a threat. This isn’t a dinner invitation. It’s a threat. If I don’t go, he’s making it clear he’ll come after her.
What does he know about her? What is he planning?
“Maria is unavailable for dinner,” I tell him.
“Well, maybe you’ll reconsider and still come?” he pushes.
“What time?” I snarl, agitated and annoyed that he put me in a position where I have no choice. But I really do have no choice. I can’t risk him doing something to her. I need to see him face-to-face and try to figure out what he’s up to.
I just wish it didn’t happen now, when all this other shit is going on as well.
“Seven, tonight at Le’Surge. Don’t be late.”
My father hangs up, proving it was never about being friendly or polite. He just wants control.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Maria safe.
If I have to blackmail that asshole to keep him away from her, I will.
Whatever it takes.
***
Seven-thirty and my asshole father walks in fashionably late. He never did care about other people’s time. There was never an ounce of respect in his thoughts toward other people.
I watch him walk into the private dinner booth, one of the waitresses hooked in his arm, and giggling happily. He slaps her on the ass and orders a drink before he turns to look at me.
I don’t say a word. I just spent the last thirty minutes wondering if this was a setup and if someone was going to storm in here and try to take me out.
I have my gun resting on my lap beneath the table, and my eyes are burning into my father.
“You can put that away, son,” he muses.
“I’ll decide when I put it away,” I snap back at him. “You couldn’t manage to be on time for the dinner you arranged?”
He laughs as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. “You always were too rigid with things. Seven, seven-thirty. What difference does it make?”
I want to lecture him about how it makes all the difference to the person stuck waiting, wasting their time, and growing agitated. But what’s the point? My father will never change.
He sits down, dumping his jacket over the back of the chair next to him. Leaning back in the chair, he drapes his arm over the other and grins at me.
“You look the same.”
I scoff.
“What did you expect?”
His eyes graze over me. “A married man usually has a different look about him. But you look the same,” he muses.
So he knows I’m married to her.
My father’s face turns sour.
“How is your sister?” he asks coldly.
“Why don’t you ask me what you really want to ask me? You don’t give a shit about Leila or how she’s doing,” I snarl.
“You made a mistake when you sided with her and her fucking husbands,” he snarls. “You made a very big mistake, boy.”
“Did I,” I mutter sarcastically.
“And you made an even bigger mistake when you stole my business from me.”
My father’s eyes are dark with rage. A primal, raw expression clouds his face as he leans forward and rests his hands on the table. “You made a mistake that you will pay for,” he says slowly.
“I think I’m done here,” I mutter, standing up. “If you only invited me to waste my time with this bullshit tantrum, I wouldn’t have come.”
“I want territory. And business assets.”
I burst out laughing. “Oh, you do, do you?”
“I demand it, Joseph. I want a portion of what you stole from me. I need to start building again, and there is no reason for me to start from scratch when I already had it all,” he snarls.
“You never had anything. You never ran any of the companies. You have no idea how to handle them, and you’ll burn them to the ground,” I huff at him.
“You will give it to me, Joseph,” he whispers softly.
“No, I won’t,” I sigh, pushing my hand through my hair. I turn toward the door to leave, and my blood instantly turns cold.
In the door way a man has Maria in his grip. There is tape over her mouth, and she looks terrified. His gun is pointed at her side, and there is a cold smirk on his face.
“Come on in, Maria. Have a seat, sweetheart,” my father gestures for her to sit next to him. The man drags her in and pushes her into the chair next to Paul.
He reaches out and runs his hand over her cheek.
“Such a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” He muses. “It would be terrible if something happened to her. Something deadly. Something painful. Do you know how easy it was to take her?” he grins at me from across the table, his hand still on my wife.
I sit down again. Two other men walk into the room to stand behind my father with their weapons in hand.
“What do you want?” I ask coldly. I have no choice but to negotiate. Her life is at risk, and I will give anything to keep her safe. Even if it means giving away my power.
“I want both properties on Fifth Street at the docks. I want three SUVs and the yacht. And a private jet.” He lists assets that belong to my alliance. My company.
“You can’t have all of that.”
“It’s what I want, boy. It’s that…or this…” he pulls her closer, and she yelps, the sound muffled against the tape over her mouth.
I close my eyes for a moment to block out the sight of her so that I can think.
Sighing, I speak slowly. “You can have one of the dock properties, two SUVs, and either the yacht or a jet.”
My father cocks his head to the side and thinks it through for a moment.
“That will be a good start,” he nods. “I accept.”
I stand up again, glaring at him.
He nods at his guard, who pulls Maria to her feet.
The man turns her to face him and rips the tape from her mouth in one harsh jerk.
She yelps and covers her mouth with her hand, scrunching her nose in pain.
I hold my hand out, and she runs around the table to me, pressing herself against my side.
“We’re done,” I tell my father.
“For now,” he grins. “Just keep it in mind, Joe, my son. Keep it in mind how easy it is for me to reach your pretty little wife.”
The threat shoots livid fury through me, but I have to turn and walk away.
Maria is back in my arms, and that’s what’s important right now. My only concern is getting her out of here. Getting her home is my number one priority.
I tug my car door open and gently push her inside. My eyes dart up and down the street. “Strap in,” I tell her.
She nods as I close the door and run around to the driver’s side. I don’t trust that man one bit. It wouldn’t surprise me if he made an attempt on my or her life, even after the negotiations went in his favor.
In the car, I start the engine and pull out into the street in a hurry. Maria groans and clutches her stomach.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, reaching out to put my hand on her leg.
“Nothing. It’s fine. Just get us home,” she murmurs through clenched teeth.
She’s clearly in pain. Her face is strained, and her fingers are clawing at her stomach.
I press my foot against the accelerator. I’ll have to help her when I get home. Right now, we need to get out of here.
But when Maria starts crying and buckles forward, I pull over to the side of the highway. No one stops behind us. I don’t think we’re being followed, and I need to see what’s going on with her.
“Baby bird, sit up, tell me what’s happening.”
She sits up, and there is blood spilling between her legs onto the car seat, thick, bright red, soaking through her pants.
“What the fuck?” I shout as panic sears deeper than ever before. “Maria! What happened?”
She is fighting for breath through the pain.
Without a moment to waste, I pull back out into the road and slam my foot on the accelerator, heading toward the private hospital.
My hands are shaking when I dial Benedikt on the car speaker.
“Ben, it’s me,” I snap.
“Joe, what’s wrong?” he asks, immediately catching the panic in my voice.
“Maria is bleeding. I’m on my way to Boulevard Clinic with her now. Meet me there.”
“Bleeding? Bleeding where? How?” he blurts out, just as panicked as I am.
“Just get there and tell the others to meet us!” I shout, hanging up the phone.
I don’t have time to explain anything. Especially when I have no idea what’s going on. I swear, if my father hurts her, I’ll skin him alive. There is no chain strong enough to hold me back from tearing him to pieces.
Maria is crying softly with her legs curled up against her chest as she rocks in the passenger seat.
“We’re almost there, baby bird,” I reassure her.