CHAPTER 7 - RED
CHAPTER
Red
S INCE TAKING OVER the running of the firm from my father, I don’t tend to get involved with the physical grunt. I have little to do with the casino either. The running of that is left to others. I just take the profits.
What I deal with is negotiations and the final part of deals; working out which territories to take. Overseeing the lugging and shifting of gear, guns and anything else we happen to trade in during any one shipment, my brothers and the closest in line after them, handle.
My father always said the boss never muddies himself with hands-on duties, so I’ve followed his direction, but over the last six months I’ve missed the process.
Sitting behind a desk is not something I enjoy.
I get more job satisfaction kicking ten bells of shit and instilling the fear of God into people, but my reasoning for rolling my sleeves up today goes deeper than boredom.
I need to get my fucking head straight before this situation drives me insane.
“I think that went smoothly.” Del hefts wooden tea crates into a line along the wall of the warehouse.
I nod my agreement. Del’s right - the shipment that just dropped did go smoothly. We’ve gained hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of cocaine, with the street value worth a lot more, plus part of a new territory was negotiated. A job well done.
I take a crowbar propped against the wall and shove it in the top of a crate.
Prizing up the lid, I smile as the wood splinters away from the sides.
There’s something comforting about that sound.
It reminds me of a particularly enjoyable job of removing someone’s teeth back in the old days.
If I remember rightly, it was one of Galavatore’s men who copped for that: a sad-faced fuck of a runner caught earwigging on our premises.
How he got in I’ll never know, but let’s just say that he didn’t get out.
That was my first “strong-arm” job at fourteen years of age - my father’s way of giving me an easy initiation task to test my mettle.
I tense. Thinking of the Galvatores raises a wave of fury within my blood every time, convinced they, along with the Bristonis, were behind Lorna’s part in my parents’ deaths. And I want to think of that name less than usual now that one of that family is presently locked within a room in my club.
Arianna.
Her name alone makes me hard, and that isn’t something I appreciate or understand. In fact, it bothers me.
How the hell can I have an unslakeable thirst for someone belonging to that fucking family?
And not a thirst to kill, but to fuck? And to fuck so hard and for so long that the woman will never move or think without being reminded of me.
She’d beg for more, pleading with me to make her come.
I want to plunge so deep into her and take her to places she’s never known.
More places than that bastard Bristoni ever took her.
I want to fuck all traces of him out of her.
I can see her now - her violet eyes begging in frustrated desperation; her need dripping from her like a fountain.
I’d take her over and over and...
“Mate? Are you all right?”
Del stares at me in concern and with horror, I realize I’m gripping the edges of the splintered tea crate, blood collecting in my whitening knuckles from dislodged staples. What the fuck am I doing?
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” I lie, knowing I’m far from that. My torment becomes complete as my aching erection tents harder against my trousers. I bend down, pretending to inspect the contents of the tea chests, but in reality, it’s only to conceal my embarrassment.
Del must have noticed. Fuck .
I don’t know what’s worse - being caught with a massive hard-on in the middle of a warehouse while sifting through a delivery of cocaine or that my thoughts are so consumed with the Galvatore woman I can no longer keep my fucking mind on track.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Del leaves the crate he’s shifting and heads towards me. “You haven’t been yourself since yesterday.”
I clench my jaw, wishing he’d stop asking me things I don’t want to acknowledge, let alone answer. The more that happens, the more I’ll be forced to make a decision I don’t want to take. And that is to kill the girl.
For once, Liam is right with what he said last night after locking Arianna away. She’s an enemy. On top of that, she’s dangerous. Her husband’s cock is testimony to that. And regardless of what she said, it could be a setup.
Either way, her being here causes me big fucking problems. I don’t want to get rid of her, and that worries me.
Wanting a Galvatore is disrespectful and downright wrong. I cannot and will not betray my parents’ memory.
“Red?”
Realizing I haven’t acknowledged nor answered Del’s question, I pull myself into check.
I’ve killed people for questioning me once, let alone twice.
As the boss, no one has the right to question me, but Del is different.
Working together from the start - long before my place within the family allowed my rise within the ranks - he’s more like a brother than the ones who are by blood.
He’s the only one who speaks to me as an equal.
My brothers are my brothers, but Del is my friend .
There aren’t many people I say that about.
Glad my arousal has diminished, I’m able to look Del in the face. “I’m at a loss over what to do about the girl.”
Del nods. “Yeah, Oscar told me what happened.”
I bristle. “What’s Oscar said?” Did my brothers sense the instant pull that woman has on me? Did they catch a glimmer of what invaded my thoughts last night?
“The rumors aren’t rumors?” Del pulls his cigarettes out of his pocket and offers me one, which I gladly take.
“Bristoni is dead.” And that I believe . “The question now is what we do about it. As you can guess, rather than thinking Roberto’s own wife is behind it, they’ll presume it was down to us. There will be a war.”
Del blows a thin stream of smoke out towards the high ceiling and cuts straight to the chase. “Are we going to off her?”
I chew my lip, then slowly smile. The smile spreads across my face, giving me that warm feeling I get when I think of payback. “Not yet.” Although I’d like to kill Arianna for getting in my head and disturbing my concentration.
Del waits patiently while I take a leisurely drag of my cigarette and contemplate. I need to be sure before voicing anything, and now I am. This will kill two birds with one stone.
“The Galvatores and Bristonis likely think we murdered Roberto and snatched Arianna. Although we didn’t, we’ve got her now, so we’ll keep her. Let them think they’re right and we’ll wait, ready for their retaliation.”
“Yeah, but afterwards, do we kill her or send her back? Use her as leverage and then kill her, sending her back to Daddy in small chunks?” Del chuckles.
I grin. “I haven’t decided yet, but she’s asked for my help, and therefore she’ll get it.” My smile widens. “However, she’ll get nothing for free and so, yes, I’ll use her to leverage our position in this city with that pair of antiquated Eyetie firms. They need to step aside!”
Del nods. “You’ll have to act fast in making a move. These bastards won’t let the grass grow under their feet before organizing retaliation for what they likely believe is our part in it.”
I nod. That is true. Very true. However, I also have a business to run and an additional issue to deal with that we’ve known about, or at least, suspected , for some time. And now it’s the day of reckoning.
I frown. It’s one of those things that none within the inner circle - me especially - want to be correct about. Unfortunately, all other explanations are now exhausted.
I jerk my head at the crates. “Arrange to get this lot sectioned out and dispatched to our territories for cutting.” We’re not stupid enough to do that part of the process here at my mainly above-board casino. That side of the drug arm is undertaken offsite, which brings its own set of problems...
Ones I genuinely thought I ran a tight and feared enough ship never to encounter. But now even that is looking dubious.
“I’ll get on to it.” Del pulls his hand over his shaved head and looks at me with a tinge of disappointment over the situation we find ourselves in. I feel the same.
“I want the money from each man after delivery, and I want it within twenty-four hours,” I mutter. “We’ll then know for sure if we have a thieving traitor in our midst.”
Because somewhere in my trusted second tier, someone is skimming cash off these cocaine drops. After today’s final count, I’ll know exactly who that is.
My mouth curls on one side. Disappointing, yes, but not as disappointing or final as it will be for whoever thinks themselves brave or clever enough to pull stunts to cunt me off.