12. Ethan
Ethan
"You ready, Shotgun?" Prez asks as I come down the stairs, still tasting Cassie's coffee on my tongue.
"As I'll ever be."
"Knuckles, Brax, and Shadow are in there too.
Shadow's a reminder of what they watched yesterday, armed, ready to finish it if it comes to that.
I'm hoping like hell it doesn't. We need to see what we can offer them.
Whatever friendly they played last night, they're Famiglia.
They're walking in expecting a trade." Prez claps my shoulder once. "Be ready for anything."
I follow him into his office, where Dante and his two brothers are already seated, none of last night's warmth left on their faces.
Knuckles stands near the door, his arms crossed, close enough to a rival family that his whole posture reads as a warning without a word needing to be said.
I nod once and take my spot against the wall.
Shadow's tucked into the far corner behind them, silent enough that I doubt any of the three even clocked him coming in.
The man could stand behind you in an empty room and you'd never hear it.
"Thank you for standing down yesterday." Prez leads. "It was a celebration, and we're grateful it didn't turn into a bloodbath in front of our women and kids."
Dante nods, some of his men's edge still visible underneath the politeness.
"We were going to call you today regardless, let you know how the union sits, and offer something in exchange. We understand how business works in a Famiglia. We're ready for that conversation, truce or not," Prez says, as he holds Dante’s gaze.
"What makes you think there's anything to trade for our own sister?" All the ease from last night's fire is gone out of him.
"We know how you people work." Prez doesn't blink.
"So, tell us what keeps this from turning into a war.
Not one of us wants that, not for our families, not for our kids, and sure as hell not for Cassie.
She'd never forgive any of you if this ended in bodies.
If you want your sister back in your life at all, help us help you get there. "
Dante studies him for a long moment, then something shifts, calculation replacing anger. "Years back we asked for help moving product through your territory. You told us you don't touch anything illegal. That still hold?"
"It does." Prez doesn't so much as glance our way for confirmation. "Only killing we do is on men who've earned it."
Dante leans forward, elbows on the desk.
"We've got a problem in one of the towns we run.
Spring Vale. We want it cleaned up, dealers and gangs cleared out, and our product moving through it instead.
Full control. Anybody needs money, they borrow from us.
Anybody wants product, they buy from us. You understand what I'm asking?"
"We're one chapter, and it's this one." Prez leans back, unreadable.
"Spring Vale is close enough that if you're keeping Cassandra, you'll want either your own people running it, or brothers you trust enough to hand it to."
“We know where Spring Vale is.” Prez doesn’t move, just sits there looking at Dante.
Brax speaks up from his spot near the window, arms folded, and all business. "We'd need full logistics before we could even consider it. Territory maps, who's currently running product through there, numbers on both sides. Nothing gets decided today."
"That's fair." Dante gives him a measured look, the respect one operator shows another.
"We're not positioned to open a third chapter, not now. We’ve just opened a chapter in Detroit.
We might be, down the line." Prez's jaw works.
"I've got a call to make to Bear, VP over at Harte of Steele.
They're not far from Spring Vale, and they helped bring my sister Mallory home a while back.
Might be something they'd take on. I need time to talk to him first." He pauses.
"And for the record, your sister's old enough to decide her own future. That part's not up for negotiation."
Dante's mouth thins. "She's my property, and..."
"She's mine." I'm off the wall before I can even think. "She’s my wife. If I say she stays, she stays."
He looks at me like I'm something he stepped in. "You clearly don't understand how this works, son."
"I'm not your son." My jaw's tight enough to crack. "I'm your brother-in-law."
"Semantics." He stands, his brothers rising with him like they're on a string. "The ball's in your court, Razor. Forty-eight hours, or we come for what's ours."
He gets to the door before turning back, he’s almost lazy about it. "I've still got your number from when we tried doing business before. Might be some real benefits to you, keeping Cassandra where she is. When you're ready to talk about that, you know how to reach me." Then they're gone.
Knuckles doesn't relax his stance until the front door shuts behind them, and only then does he let out a breath. "Man talks a big game for somebody who just got walked out of a room he thought he controlled."
"What the hell was that, Prez?" My teeth are ground down to nothing. "Benefits? What's he offering?"
"No idea. But I guarantee he won't be half this friendly next time he walks through that door." Prez is already smiling to himself, some plan clicking into place behind his eyes. "We need to ride out to Harte of Steele."
"Today?"
"After breakfast. Say your goodbyes." He looks around the room. "Knuckles, Brax, Ethan, you're all coming."
"Figures." Knuckles cracks his neck, already moving toward the door. "Never a slow week around here."
We file out to the kitchen, and the second I clear the doorway my eyes land on Cassie, standing there like she's been waiting on this exact moment since the door shut on her this morning. She’s beautiful, worried, and mine on paper if nothing else yet.
I have to remind myself, staring at my own wife across a kitchen full of the only family that's ever chosen me back, that none of this is supposed to be real.
Fuck, if it doesn't feel real anyway.