Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
I shifted my attention to him. “I came by to give you an update on what I learned last night.”
He nodded and looked at my stepmother. “Marjorie, do you mind?”
She gave him an indulgent smile. “No, go ahead, though as I told you a million times, you can talk business in front of me.”
He shook his head. “It’s not polite, and I don’t want to bother you.”
“The only thing that bothers me is thinking of you in danger.”
He waved a hand as if brushing off her concern. “I know how to take care of myself.”
“Not as well as you think.” She gave my father a look as he picked up one of the chocolate croissants from the tray. “How many of those have you had? You know your doctor told you to lay off the sugar.”
He scoffed. “That man would take away every pleasure in life if he could. I’m not going to make myself miserable.”
“Having one pastry instead of several probably wouldn’t contribute much to your misery.”
I smiled. My mother had been raised in a crime family and taught the old-fashioned rules of respect. She’d never openly challenged my father. Marjorie didn’t believe in any such rules, and I loved her for it.
“Don’t worry about me so much.”
“Oh, Bébé, I can’t help it.”
They gave each other sappy smiles, and I cleared my throat.
“You’re always so impatient, son. You should try to relax more.”
I forced myself not to scowl at him. He was the one who’d passed on most of the family responsibilities to me so he could relax. How was I supposed to do that?
“There’s a lot going on right now, Pop.”
“Sure. But you can handle it.”
His confidence in me helped me relax far more than him telling me to. He was still tough as hell, and I knew if an enemy walked in right now, he’d put a bullet through the man’s head without asking questions, but he’d never held back affection from me and my brothers, not even before he and Marjorie had gotten back together and he’d found true love himself.
I knew he truly cared for me, and I also knew he didn’t give compliments lightly. He was pleased with how I’d handled things, but that was why I felt so much pressure to get the damn gunrunner situation cleared up. I couldn’t fuck things up and make him or anyone else in the crime world think less of me. Any show of weakness would bring the sharks circling.
My family had held power for decades. We had solid alliances and firm control over much of what happened in the city, but I’d been taught to never take our position for granted. There were always those looking to move in, thinking they could undermine our power. We needed to appear as strong as ever.
My father stood, and I followed him to his office after promising Marjorie to look in on her before I left. I assured her the meeting shouldn’t take too long. At least I hoped it wouldn’t.
My father’s office looked like it could be a set for a stereotypical mobster movie. It was decorated with dark colors, a massive desk, and heavy leather furniture. When he’d worked in here regularly, he’d always had a glass of whiskey beside him, no matter the time of day. I was sure in my grandfather’s day the room had been filled with smoke. I’d rarely seen the man without a cigar.
My father had given up smoking ages ago, soon after I was born. It was just one more way he’d shown he cared about us, no matter how dangerous a man he might be. I was glad he’d taught us we could be both family men and businessmen, but that didn’t mean I believed him when he told me I needed to find someone who meant as much to me as Marjorie did to him.
I explained what happened the night before, minimizing the situation with the car, then showed him the pictures I’d taken.
He studied the images for a few moments before nodding. “That’s Charles Landry. I’m sure of it. So what’s your next move?”
I gave him a rundown of the intel we’d gathered.
“That’s a lot of information, but it’s not a plan. You’re nervous about this one, and you don’t want to commit to anything.”
I hated how easily he could read me. “I don’t want to fuck it up.”
I couldn’t believe I’d just admitted that to him. I wanted him to think I always knew what I was doing.
“The surest way to fuck something up is to do nothing.”
I studied him for a moment. Was he serious? Charging in when our intel was wrong or taking out the wrong people seemed far worse than biding our time. “You think we should move now?”
“The longer these men are getting what they want and selling their wares in our territory, the worse we look. It’s time to step in and put an end to this now that we know the players.”