Chapter 42
Alessandro
My muscles are on fire, my taped knuckles bleeding from working the punching bag when I get the call from my father.
My heart is a hammer in my chest as I wipe the sweat dripping in my eyes and answer it. “Hey.”
There’s a horn blast in the background. I can envision him in the back of his luxury sedan, laptop open. “Hey, Son. It’s a go.”
I almost collapse from relief and at the same time, I feel like I can fly. It’s a new feeling. “The whole plan?”
“The whole plan.” Ice clinks in a glass. “They want it done within forty-eight hours.”
“Not a problem. I’ll keep you updated.”
“And Son?”
“Yeah.”
There’s a soft chuckle and then he adds, “Congratulations on the end of your engagement.”
I know he can hear the smile and relief in my voice as I say, “Yeah, thanks. Talk soon.”
I immediately text the main group of my guys: Operation Milo is a go
Then I text Milo: Can you meet me at the Viper Room at 9? I have a business proposition
Meeting in his family’s territory will put him at ease, and keep him from being suspicious since I never give him the time of day when it comes to business.
Milo: Shouldn’t you be talking to my father?
Me: We both know you will be the one in charge soon
I tap my foot as I wait for his response. The delay tells me he’s suspicious. Finally, it comes.
Milo: I’ll be there
***
I arrive at the Viper Room half an hour early to make sure everything is set up.
I watch Gunnar exit the restaurant with his cover date. I don’t approach him in case Milo is here early, too. Instead, I text him.
Me: All set?
He climbs into his SUV and then replies: Everything’s in place. Good luck.
I smile. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this good.
I don’t see any guards around, and no one stops me as I walk in.
The bar is dark and cold, cigar smoke hangs in the air along with the low hum of mingling conversations. I take a seat in a leather booth in the back and order a drink. Anticipation has my blood humming. I need a distraction.
I’m scrolling through my phone when Milo arrives. He’s got two guards with him. Instead of following him in, they take up posts by the door.
I quickly shoot a text to the group.
“Sandro.” He’s eyeing me suspiciously as he slides into the seat across from me.
One dark wave has escaped his hair product and hangs over his tanned forehead.
His casual, Hawaiian patterned, short-sleeved shirt is straining against the bulky muscle in his chest and arms. He flexes as he leans forward to glare at me.
The corner of my lip twitches in amusement as I return his stare. This is going to be fun.
The waitress hurries over with a glass of bourbon, places it in front of him and scurries away.
He lifts the glass, his eyes dark with suspicion. “What shall we toast to?”
I lift my own glass. “How about to new alliances?”
He runs his tongue across his teeth. “All right then. To new alliances.” He clinks my glass and we drink, our eyes locked. After he swallows, he tilts his head. “So, what’s this business proposition?”
I glance over at the door as four Russian women walk in. Perfect timing. I make a show of raking my gaze over them. “Maybe pleasure before business.”
He peers over his shoulder and smirks. “You’re full of surprises tonight, Sandro.” He whistles and motions the girls over. They sashay across the bar to our table and stand obediently in front of us. A familiar face watches me. “Take your pick.”
I reach out and grab Brenda’s hand and pull her into the seat beside me. Wrapping her hair around my fist, I stare at her cleavage. “She’ll do.”
Milo chuckles darkly as he motions for a redhead to join him. As she settles in beside him, he watches me stroke Brenda’s arm. “Does this mean you’re no longer pining for the Kelly girl?”
“Who?” I give him a devious smirk back.
He nods and finally leans back in the booth and relaxes. “About fucking time. Your little crush was kind of pathetic. Made you look weak. Well, not just look weak, right? Actually made you vulnerable. Heard the Russians took advantage of it.”
The Beast stirs. I simply nod and change the subject to get him to talk about himself. He forgets all about why we’re here as he drains his glass. The waitress brings him a second glass of bourbon and then a third.
An hour later he excuses himself to use the restroom, and I turn to Brenda.
“It’s time.”
She glances at me, uncertainty pooling in her blue eyes.
I give her an encouraging nod.
Dipping her hand into her tiny, jeweled purse, she pulls out a small clear vial. She uncorks the bottle, leans over to pour its contents into Milo’s drink, swirls the glass, and then sits back, eyes wide.
The redhead’s eyes flare with anxiety, and her lips purse as she stares at the drink. Then she straightens her shoulders and gives Brenda a trembling half-smile and nod of solidarity.
Brenda blows out a breath as she slips the empty vial into my outstretched hand.
I wasn’t sure if Milo would be suspicious enough to have me frisked at the door, so Gunnar gave Brenda the vial to bring to the table. He filled her in on our plan and her part in it. She was more than happy to help bring down Milo.
Milo returns to the table, and we resume the conversation. When his drink is almost gone and I notice a sheen of sweat begin to form on his forehead, I say casually, “We know it was you who made a deal with the Russians to allow their skin trade for a cut of the profit.”
Milo’s smile slowly fades as he stares at me and blinks. “Excuse me?”
I just stare back, feeling the change in the air as he processes what I said.
He picks up a napkin and wipes at his forehead. “What the fuck are you going on about, Sandro?”
“I believe it’s called treason. Going behind the Don’s back, behind New York’s back to make deals with the enemy. To line your own pockets.” I click my tongue in disappointment.
His face pales, and anger gathers like a storm in his eyes. He hits the table with a fist. The girls jump. “You said it yourself, Sandro. I’m the one who’s going to be in charge. It will be my decision soon enough to do business with the Bratva or not.”
I swirl my still-full glass of scotch. “You know New York doesn’t want them trafficking in Tampa.”
“They’ll change their mind when they see the profits. Money talks. Just ten percent has added a quarter million a month to our bottom line.”
“You mean your bottom line.” Milo was getting ten percent just to turn a blind eye? Interesting. Now I know we can hold out for at least twenty percent. Time to lay out my cards. I set the empty vial on the table. “Money talks, yes. But dead men don’t.”
Milo looks from my face to the vial and then back again. Then his eyes move to his empty glass, and his whole body stiffens. His eyes fly up to mine. “Motherfucker, did you poison me?”
I make a show of checking my Patek Philippe watch. “Tetrachloroethane. You have about an hour before you slip into a coma. Any last words?”
Panic fills his eyes as a cough wracks his body. He pulls out his gun and points it at my face. “I’m taking you with me, you conniving piece of shit.”
My gaze flicks to the door where Big Tony and Fausy have quietly incapacitated the two guards. They give me a nod as they drag them out of sight.
I meet Milo’s gaze again, ignoring the gun.
“I would rethink that. Rocco has the antidote. He’s waiting in the parking lot.
All we want is your cut of the profits so far.
You come with me to the car, transfer the funds into one of my offshore accounts, and we never speak of this again. Shoot me and it’s over.”
Milo’s hand is now shaking. His breathing is labored. I don’t know if it’s the poison or the panic.
Without taking my eyes off Milo, I say, “Ladies, can you please leave us.”
They’ve been sitting there completely frozen but now scramble out of the booth.
I slide out behind them, buttoning my jacket. “Shall we?”
Milo is cursing under his breath as he struggles to get out of the booth. After another coughing fit, he growls, “Didn’t know you were such a greedy motherfucker.”
If he could think clearly right now, he’d know this was a trap. There’s nothing in our history that would suggest this is the move I’d make. I’m a hundred percent loyal to the family. I don’t bother disarming him. He wants the antidote.
The one that doesn’t exist.
I’m whistling as I lead Milo to my Range Rover. It’s a beautiful balmy evening for revenge. As we reach the SUV, Big Tony and four soldiers step out from behind it and point semi-automatic rifles at Milo.
His head whips in my direction. “What the fuck, Sandro?”
I shrug. “Yeah, sorry. I lied. There’s no antidote.”
He hunches over, holding his stomach. After another brutal coughing fit, he leans against my SUV, breathing hard, his shoulders curled inward in defeat.
I reach over and pluck the SIG Sauer from his hand.
His eyes meet mine in the darkness, and I see the anger fading into resolve. He knows it’s over.
Big Tony drives. I’m in the passenger seat and two of our soldiers are in the back with a subdued Milo, making sure he doesn’t pull any last-minute stunts. He’s slumped in the seat, moaning as he holds his stomach.
“Your father is quite disappointed in you.” I turn to catch his eye.
“He knew, just as New York does, that you’re not a leader.
” I watch his labored breathing. “He would’ve rather let me absorb his businesses when I married Giada than leave anything to you.
But now that doesn’t have to happen. We’ve come up with a solution that suits us all.
He’s given his blessing for Giada to marry Toly Romanov.
His empire will stay intact and be passed down to their children. ”
Milo tries to respond but is gripped by a wheezing coughing fit. His watery eyes are blazing again with rage. “The Russians?” he croaks.
“Mm.” I nod. “Besides extra labor, bringing them into the fold gives us more control over them. And the best part is Giada marrying Toly leaves me free to marry Lennon.” I turn back and stare out the window. “If she’ll have me.”
I have some work to do to clear the way for that to happen.
As we pull around the gravel back road at Riverside Gator Farm, our headlights sweep over the back gate, where our contact Johnny B. is waiting there to let us in.
He’s wearing a backward ball cap and dirty jeans, grinning like he won the lottery as he swings open the gate and waves us through. I’m surrounded by fucking sociopaths.
I turn and tap Milo on the knee with my Beretta. He slowly lifts his head. Snot and tears are running down his ghostly pale face. “Lennon told me what you did to her on the roof of Club Paradiso. For that, you’re going to suffer before you become gator food.”
The pure agony in his eyes pacifies my disgust.
I spend the next half hour making Milo bleed while he begs, cries and chokes like a pussy. By the time he’s dragged naked and barely breathing to the edge of lake, where a dozen set of glowing eyes lay in wait, the Beast is satiated.
Johnny B. holds the prehistoric man-eaters off with a long stick, while Gunnar and I drag Milo into the water and drop him with a splash.
I meet the eye of one of the large predators moving in quickly. “Bon appétit, motherfucker.”
***
After a hot shower, the first call I make is to my father. I’m out on my balcony, staring at the sleeping city. For now, my mind is calm, my body relaxed. My father doesn’t sleep, so I’m not surprised when he answers on the second ring.
“Hello, Son.”
I don’t feel like having a long conversation about this topic, so I get to the point. “It’s done.”
A grunt of approval comes over the line. “The Commission will be pleased.”
I move on to what I really want to discuss. “I have something else to talk to them about, but I want to run it by you first.”
“Go ahead.”
I stare at the North Star, its light shining brighter than the others making up the little dipper. Just like my girl. “It’s about Lennon Kelly.”
There’s a pause. His voice holds a hint of concern as he says, “Son, you know she can’t officially be a part of your life.”
“I have some new information that may change that. It turns out that her father is Mac Donelly.”
“Mac “The Mako” Donelly? The Irish boss in Chicago? How?”
“Do you want me to explain the birds and bees?”
“Don’t be a smart ass you know what I mean.”
I chuckle. “Yeah. That Mac Donelly. It’s a long story and she just found out. But the important thing is Donelly wants an alliance with us and help to establish a presence in Tampa.” Hopefully, that will be the truth soon enough.
“I see.” There’s a scraping sound like he’s dragging something across concrete.
He’s a little breathless as he says, “They’ve lost a lot of ground to Italians in Chicago, so that doesn’t surprise me.
Though, be careful son, the old man still has teeth.
” He suddenly huffs out a sharp laugh. “This is working out quite nicely for you. You didn’t make a deal with the devil for this girl, did you, Son? ”
Quiet amusement rumbles in my chest. “No.” But I would have.
“All right. Let me talk to The Commission first. Get them warmed up to the idea. Meanwhile, you find out exactly what Donelly wants.”
“I’ll let you know.”