Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
I nod to myself. I share all of his concerns, and I’m as frustrated as he is. Only I know that rushing off and trying to burn Gray Wolf out isn’t going to help anything.
The problem is they have no solid home base. Those we know about are all protected by their rich clients. The wealthy elite in Philadelphia are deeply invested in art and antiques, and that means they have deep ties with Demir. That bastard’s using his influence against us, and though the tide’s turning very slowly, it’s most definitely turning.
“We make them money. We give them protection. Sooner or later, they’ll realize this city is stronger with us in it, and then Demir will face a reckoning.” At least, that’s my strategy. Hang on, make this war expensive and difficult, and counter his propaganda the best we can.
“You know what I want to do.” Vittorio’s face is hard. His eyes spell fire and death.
“You’ll get your chance to kill them soon.” Luca pulls up to Frank’s deli. It’s a small place deep in South Philly. All the advertisements are from fifty years ago, and it has a rabidly loyal customer base. From what I understand, it’s not even entirely a front for his drug money. The place turns a profit making old-school sandwiches.
I head inside, flanked by Luca and another young guard. Vittorio comes behind, watching our back, but this is deep in our own territory. I’m not worried about Gray Wolf attacks here. Half the men lurking around on corners are on my payroll and loyal to my Famiglia.
“Don Marino.” The deli’s manager is an ancient old Italian man. He greets me warmly, offers me food, and makes a big deal about my presence. I smile and ask how his family’s doing and speak with a few of the other customers from the neighborhood until Frank shows his face and respectfully beckons us into the back.
I hesitate as I step around the counter. I’m not sure why, but a strange prickle runs down my spine. Frowning, I look around, trying to figure it out. And there, in the corner, I notice that the camera system isn’t working. I point it out, and the old owner just shrugs.
“Died yesterday. Got to get it fixed.”
“I’ll send someone,” I tell him and follow Luca and my young guard into the back.
Vittorio’s already there pouring himself some wine as Frank tries to get him to take a cigar. There are other men lurking around the edges of the room. I don’t recognize all of them, which is curious. Frank’s a man of habit, and he rarely brings new faces to a war meeting like this. The table’s set up with a small meat and cheese spread.
“Please, let me get you something,” Frank says, practically pushing a glass of wine into my hands. “We can make you lunch too if you’re hungry. Anything you need, Don Marino.”
I frown at him. Frank’s not usually this pushy. “I’m fine. Let’s skip this and talk. I have other meetings.”
“Right, right, of course.” Frank looks toward the door and back to me. “But are you sure you don’t want something to drink?”
“I told you I’m fine.” I follow his gaze. One of the men I don’t know has taken up a position beside the closed door. “There are some new faces in here.”
“Don’t mind them,” Frank says quickly. Too quickly, if I’m honest. “Just a few trusted men. With what’s happening, I thought we should make sure this meeting was safe.”
“It’s safe enough,” Vittorio says, looking more relaxed now that he’s got alcohol in his hand. “You’re too paranoid, you old bastard.”
“And you’re too cocky, you young shit.” Frank grins at Vittorio.
I glance over at where Luca’s waiting. He seems as tense as I am. His hands aren’t overtly on his gun, but they’re lingering casually at his waistband where I know he likes to hide one of his pistols.
Something’s off. I don’t know what it is, but this feels all wrong. I grew up in the Famiglia, and I learned a long time ago to trust my instincts. There’s a voice in my head screaming to get out of this room. There are the broken cameras, the men I don’t know, Frank’s obvious discomfort.
Maybe I would have noticed sooner if I weren’t so caught up thinking about Lucy. I could have avoided coming back here in the first place. This is exactly why it’s so dangerous to let myself get distracted by my wife.
Every day is a life-or-death struggle.
It’s a fight I plan on winning.
I take out my phone and pretend to get a text.
“Luca, change of plans. Get the door.” I nod at him with my chin. He heads over, and Frank’s man doesn’t move. He keeps blocking the way.
That gives it away. When the Don speaks, a loyal man bends over backward to obey. But these bastards aren’t moving.