Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“That’s my girl.” I gently kiss her cheek. “I love you, Bianca. I’d lick the ground you walked on just to taste the soles of your feet.”
“Freak.” She bites her lip, trying not to smile. “My feet don’t even taste good.”
“Every inch of you is perfection.” My heart patters as I look at her. I swear, my feather glows. She’s truly divine in a way she’ll never really understand. Without her, I’d be nothing but a worthless slug, a mindless killer, a sinner with no conscience.
She holds me together. She keeps me from breaking loose upon the world.
“Just be quick, okay?” She rubs her arms with her hands as if she’s cold. “I’ll be in my office with the door locked.”
“You’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’m here.” I kiss her lips and pat her butt gently. “Go on, I’ll see you soon.”
She mutters to herself as she disappears into her office. I wait a moment before heading to the conference room, slipping inside, the meeting already well underway.
My father’s sitting at the head of the table. Padraig Whelan seems like a man carved from granite. His eyes are hard and slate blue, and his mouth is set in a perpetual scowl. Beside him to his left sits Adriano Marino, much younger, though more physically imposing. He’s large and handsome with a piercing stare.
At the other end of the table is Ruslan Morozov. He’s sitting back in his seat, hands folded over the slight swell of his gut. Taras is on his right side, and I swear, the Russian general flinches when I give him a tight smile. I’m tempted to wave, but that’d be a little bit too much.
I take a seat in the space between the two parties, entirely at ease.
“The details of the venture are going to matter,” Ruslan’s saying, looking unhappy. “But I understand the merits.”
“We’ve spent a long time hammering out exactly how this is going to work,” Adriano says. He glances at my father. “I believe we’ve settled on a very profitable business model.”
“Absolutely,” Dad agrees.
“But cutting you in should be fairly straightforward.” Adriano pushes a folder over to Ruslan. I pass it along down to the Russian Pakhan. He gives me a look, head tilted curiously, but looks back down at the papers.
“The split seems equitable,” he murmurs, lips pressed together as he hands pages over to Taras. “Generous, given the situation.”
“We see this as a long-term proposition,” Dad says, doing his best to sound like he means it. Meanwhile, I know for a fact that he wanted to make Ruslan suffer, and it was Adriano who convinced him to take this alliance seriously. “With your source of product added on to the Marino’s already generous portion, we’ll have enough income over five years to control the entire city.”
“Assuming the other families sit back and do nothing.” Ruslan snaps the folder shut. “This is good. Better than I expected.”
“We know,” Adriano says simply. “What we’re offering is a bit of a good faith test. Padraig will release your product from his custody, and you will be allowed to use our delivery network to sell on our territory. If that goes well, we’ll move on to next steps.”
“This is apparently preferable to killing each other,” Dad adds with a dramatic shrug. “Although I can’t see how.”
Ruslan laughs, a dark glint in his eye. “We so do love a good murder.”
“Killing is expensive.” Adriano doesn’t look amused. “Do you know how much it costs to get rid of one body? To bribe the police? To make sure witnesses keep their mouths shut?”
“I don’t leave witnesses and I’m good at making corpses go away for very cheap,” I say helpfully.
Everyone stares at me. That was probably not the right time.
Adriano shakes his head and continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “War costs too much. Even if you win, which you won’t, you will fucking lose. I’d rather shit on a gold toilet than kill a bunch of dumb assholes.”
“I do love gold,” Ruslan agrees, nodding slowly. “It’s a good offer. But there are problems.” He holds up a finger. “You killed my nephew. You killed my accountant. These things are big problems for me.”
“I’ll send their families a condolence card,” I offer, smiling sweetly.
Dad gives me a look. “Not the time, Cormac.”
“Just trying to be helpful.”
“We can’t compensate you for those losses,” Adriano says. I like the Don of the Marino Famiglia. He’s all business. I can see a bit of my feather in him, though she’s light and pure, while he’s just another miserable bastard. “However, this deal will more than make up for it.”
“Yes, perhaps, but I have a demand.” Ruslan stares at me, cold and brutal, before looking to my father. “I have a young daughter. She’s very pretty. Very smart. Maybe a bit too willful, but—” He makes a sweeping gesture. “What can you do? Nobody is perfect.”