“Alejandro?” I said into the phone.
“Yes... .” He paused long enough that I started to worry that it was all he was going to say. I listened for any noise in the background that might give me an indication of where we stood now. Finally, he broke his silence with, “My apologies for ending our call so abruptly.”
I held back the sigh of relief that wanted to escape. “What happened? Were we correct?” I looked across at Pop. He looked like he was holding his breath in anticipation.
“Si,” Alejandro said, the bravado in his tone replaced with pure sadness. “You were right. I know now why this Italian used the term ‘Road Map.’ The man has some face issues. Pockmarks, I think you call them. His phone rang just as he was about to plant a bullet in my head. He proclaimed his guilt easily enough, but he won’t trouble anyone anymore.”
“This is good,” I said, feeling the tension rush out of my body. My brother and sister had a fighting chance now—or at least that was what I thought until Alejandro reminded me of the blood that had already been spilled.
“The man was one of my trusted people. Under normal circumstances, I would thank you for exposing scum like this. But I have a dead son and two brothers I must bury.”
The situation between us was still tricky, to say the least. I needed Alejandro to stay focused on the fact that we had a common enemy, rather than on the fact that he’d lost family members at our hands. “I’m sorry for your loss. I have an uncle I must bury too,” I reminded him. “We’ve both lost loved ones—just as Sal Dash wanted, I’m sure. But now is the time for us to put an end to the fighting, not to finish each other off. I want you to let my brother go.” I purposely left Paris out of it, since Alejandro didn’t seem to know she was family. No need for him to feel like he had an extra bargaining chip, in case he wasn’t ready to call a truce just yet.
To my relief, he said, “Enough blood has been shed between our families today.”
I nodded to my father and gave him a thumbs-up to share the good news, but Alejandro wasn’t done yet.
“Hostilities have ended between us—for now,” he said gravely. “But this does not mean we have settled the score. You must pay a price for the death of my son.”
Oh my God, he was still going to kill Rio. I had to convince him to stop. “No! Your son’s death was an ac—,” I started frantically, but he cut me off.
“I do not want to hear the details surrounding my son’s death. You have taken my only son, and for this you must pay. I expect no less than the head of Sal Dash. This is nonnegotiable.”
That was it? He only wanted us to kill Dash? As far as I was concerned, that was on my agenda anyway. “Done,” I told him.
“One more thing. Tell your father that I will no longer be doing business with him. Tell him to keep out of the West Coast, especially Los Angeles.”
Before I could respond, Alejandro hung up. If it was still in LC’s plans for me to succeed him, I would be dealing with the new frienemy we’d made. For now, I just wanted my brother and sister back... alive.
I needed to get to L.A., to see what I could do about getting them out of there myself. I was picking up the conference phone to make flight arrangements when my personal cell phone rang. It was a number I didn’t recognize, and the connection was spotty. I had to call out a few times before I heard a recognizable voice.
“Rio!” I yelled out in a fit of relief. “Thank God.”
Paris
52