“That’s more information than I’ve gotten out of a single man face-to-face since I’ve been out,” Emilio gripes.
“And how are you and Mr. Mancuso? The last time I called the house, your beautiful wife explained that you were otherwise occupied and unable to come to the phone. I’m pleased to be hearing from you.”
“I’m on house arrest. It’s terrible. My beautiful wife, as you call her, won’t get off my ass. The woman can cook for twelve hours straight without taking a break—the only thing she can do for longer than that is bitch. Carlo was in Rikers until a few weeks ago when he got transferred to MCC. He’s got a two-year sentence, and they’re not crediting him for time served. Fucking assholes. I asked Tony to visit him, but he’s been too busy. Now I know why. That fuckin’ kid is starting to piss me off.” Emilio’s angry New York accent slips into Italian full on, and only two of the men in the room understand a fucking thing he’s saying. I press the mute button and give the signal to the room that they’re free to talk.
“He’s such a douche,” Michael says and rubs his temples.
Leo snorts and nods. “Mr. Vescovi is wishing he deposited his sperm in a better uterus. He thinks he would have a more intelligent son had he chosen better.”
“Maybe he should’ve stuck his sperm up his little brother’s ass. I’m sick and fucking tired of the way this asshole bitches about my aunt. She’s a good woman,” Michael says.
Ryan looks almost pleased with Michael’s frustration.
Emilio calms down and starts speaking in English, so I give the signal for the room to shut up and then un-mute the speaker.
“That boy. I told Carlo he was too young to apply for a position. Too immature. Carlo insisted. He knows his place, but maybe I need to remind him of it.”
“How should I move forward? My guys have been having trouble with their daily routes. People seem to think the company takes late payments. Too many to count. Tony’s got everybody questioning their contracts. They’re saying that if the company is sloppy enough to allow this embarrassment, then they shouldn’t retain the offered services.”
“I’ll reach out to your guys and get them back on schedule. Don’t worry about that, son. Carlo is unhappy with the way Ruby and her husband went about meeting the twins, but he’s agreed to temporarily let bygones be bygones. He’s a wise man. He sees the value in keeping the peace. You stay with Alexandra. She’s to be your wife after all.”
I shoot Ryan a deadly look that promises severe pain if he opens his mouth. Emilio thinking Leo is still betrothed to Alexandra is a good thing. It means that Tony is keeping his shit close to the vest. It’s the best scenario we could have hoped for. Ryan’s jaw ticks and his shoulders tighten as he grips the edge of the table. Fucking temper tantrums. He knows damn well, and every man in this room knows damn well, that Alex belongs to him. Even Leo knows Alex didn’t want to marry him, and he’s fine with it. He’s a smart man and knows that a wife who doesn’t want him isn’t much of a wife at all.
“And Ruby’s husband? His display in Brooklyn can’t be forgotten,” Leo says. He carefully eyes Pop, making sure he knows this is an act. We don’t have guns in Church. We never did, really. Only a few times, and when Ryan pulled his piece on Grady, we stopped. Didn’t matter how dangerous shit was at the time. No amount of safety planning is worth having to put a brother down for taking out another brother in the only fucking place we should be able to feel safe. Fuck that.
“Don’t let that bother you. Carlo has had his eyes on Mr. and Mrs. Stone for many years now. Though the grapevine has been unreliable at times, it’s proven worth the investment.”
What.the.fuck.
“Is this something I should be aware of?” Leo asks.
Emilio scoffs. “No. Take care of your bride, son.”
The men say their goodbyes and agree to catch up with one another in a few weeks. When the call has been disconnected, we sit there in silence.
“Did he just say we got another fucking rat?” Grady asks. His eyes are menacing and his growl fierce.
My body is tense, and from what I can tell, there’s not a man in the room who isn’t about ready to fuck something up. Another fucking rat? The anger that’s always just barely concealed in me is threatening to bubble over as I eye each one of my brothers. It couldn’t be one of our own, could it?
Chapter 12
DID YOU RUN? the text reads. It’s like he’s baiting me, and I’m starting to hate him for it. Okay, maybe hate is too strong of a word, but he’s getting on my damn nerves. I took care of myself long before he came along. I don’t need an owner or a master or whatever the fuck he thinks he’s doing—I just need a freaking friend. And I thought we were friends.
YOU WOULD KNOW IF YOU WERE HERE.