Before - Bethan-Kris Page 0,17
that cigar in the corner of his mouth bouncing dangerously with his next chuckle. “Oh, you’ve got one of those, huh?”
Lev came to a stop just three feet in front of Andino’s vehicle. “One of what?”
“An attitude. Curb it a bit, could you?”
He wasn’t the type to get defensive, and he was pretty damn sure Andino wasn’t the kind of man who appreciated that shit either, but Lev had a line. He really hated it when people crossed it without even thinking about it.
His entire life had been people talking around or down to him like he wasn’t half the human being they were. Either because he was a kid, at the time, didn’t have as much money or education as them, or whatever the case may be. He was too old and didn’t have the same patience for that shit as he used to, and he was just fine with letting Andino know that, too.
“Is there something you want?” he asked Andino. “Because if all you want to do here is make comments about my mood, I have better places to be and things to do when I get there.”
That had Andino pausing.
Just long enough to laugh it off.
“There was something about you that I liked,” the guy admitted. “That first time I walked into Nickie’s, I mean. Not sure what it was—maybe because you didn’t call me sir like every other stupid fuck does.”
Lev cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the admittance. He wasn’t exactly sure it was a good thing to be liked by a man like Andino Marcello knowing what he did about the business of the mafia and whatnot. It seemed a bit dangerous to be liked by someone who spent his days making money by whatever means he could—from selling drugs to murder.
And yet, here the two of them were.
Talking.
“Thought people called a Capo their Skip,” Lev returned.
Andino grinned. “Some do. Semantics.”
That was said with an easy wave of his hand, like it didn’t matter at all. Lev had a good feeling it did, in fact, matter to men like Andino what he was called by his subordinates. He wasn’t about to argue the point of it, however.
What difference did it make?
“And I liked the way you served my whiskey,” Andino added, lifting one blazer covered shoulder as if it was another flippant comment that didn’t matter much at all. “Three ice cubes, two fingers of liquor, and without any fucking small talk to annoy the hell out of me. So, every time I came around, I made sure Nickie knew it had better be you that served my drinks. No excuses.”
“That’s ... it?”
Andino arched a brow as he pulled the cigar from his mouth. Eyeing the burning red coal at the tip, he showed his teeth when he murmured, “Yeah, that was it. Sometimes, that is all it takes. You never gave a fuck about the politics of my business or even who I was, and I like that about you. See, whenever a Marcello walks into a place, everybody thinks they’re entitled to the reasons why. Why are we there—why does it even fucking matter? I just want someone who does their goddamn job, Lev. The way I tell them to without needing to be told a second time.”
It wasn’t the first time Andino used his name. It still felt important that the man knew it in the first place.
“Nothing more and nothing less,” the man added after a brief pause. “You get what I’m saying?”
He was starting to think he might.
Maybe.
“Forgive me for asking why right now,” Lev said, choosing each word carefully because he might really like to make it out of the parking lot alive, “but why are you here?”
Because really, wasn’t that the important thing?
That cigar in Andino’s hand curled with smoke when the man dropped his arm to his side. Pushing away from the hood of the Benz, he peered off to the side where Lev noticed another man stood waiting, dressed in all black, about twenty feet away.
“Another man of mine,” Andino informed, “he drives like shit, but he knows how to handle a gun and really, that’s what I need at the moment. I seem to be down a man considering the one that got his brains blown out at Nickie’s a couple of nights ago. Hard to find good, loyal guys in this business so it’s always a rough go for a while when you need to replace one.”
“About that—what happened at Nickie’s, I mean.”
Andino’s