The Devil's CrownPart Two - Monica James Page 0,46
his cards, which remain on the table. “My empire collapsed in the past because I was too…lenient,” he settles for. “But I’ve learned from my mistakes.”
“We live, and we learn,” Christian says in Sicilian. There is something I can’t put my finger on with him. He seems different from the rest. He’s hiding something, something I feel he doesn’t want his family to know.
Alek nods, reaching for his cards and organizing them leisurely. “This is true. And I’ve learned that if anyone betrays me, if anyone doesn’t agree with my way, then I kill them.”
Fausto’s thin lips lift into a pleased smile. “There is no other way. We want the same thing. My family has been doing this for a very long time. We’re discreet.”
“How?” Alek asks as they commence playing.
“Back home, we own all the major waste management companies.”
I have no idea if this is code for something.
“Every Tuesday, we leave deliveries. We pick up deliveries. We give our customers special garbage bags for a fee of course. Our cartel act as trash haulers, and to the unknown, we are just keeping the streets clean. We have influence over certain routes, and we’re not afraid to get our hands dirty if any competition believes they can challenge us.”
“That’s all good and well in Sicilia, but what about here? Russia isn’t Italy. How do you propose to work this operation here?” Alek asks, pushing some chips into the growing pile in the middle of the table.
“That’s where our partnership works in both our favors,” Fausto explains. “Your reputation is notorious. Tales of the brutal Aleksei Popov have reached Sicilia. We work together to regain your allies and win over who we need.”
“How do you propose we do that? In case you hadn’t heard, I’m the anti-hero everyone loves to hate.” Alek’s sarcasm knows no bounds. He doesn’t care he’s sitting with the Italian mafia, who would kill him without a second thought. The fact seems to provoke him all the more.
“Alek, together, we’re unstoppable,” Santo says cockily. “You can trust me. We both benefit from this partnership. I have the drugs, and you have the connections, the knowledge to distribute those drugs.”
Santo is trying to sell this idea to Alek because yes, both need one another in this transaction, but as far as trusting him, that’s total bullshit. He will dispose of Alek the moment they get the information they need to succeed on their own.
Alek mulls over Santo’s words, and when he lifts his eyes, focusing on me, I take a small step backward, suddenly afraid.
“Okay, let’s do it.”
The men look at one another, their surprise soon turning to happiness as they believe they’ve won. “Meraviglioso!”
The celebration is short-lived however.
“I’m a gambling man,” Alek says, reaching for his glass. “You said I can trust you, so how about you all put your money where your mouth is?”
The men don’t see a problem with it and push all their chips into the middle of the table. But Alek has other ideas.
“Let’s make things interesting. Money is so…mundane. Let us bet something far more exciting.”
“What did you have in mind, my friend?” Santo beams, slapping Frank on the back happily.
“How about”—Alek taps his chin, appearing in thought—“how about Willow for…Antonella.”
My mouth drops open, as I can’t conceal my surprise. “You motherfu—”
Alek smirks, daring me to continue. I glare in response.
Santo shifts in his seat uncomfortably. Frank’s spine straightens. Willow remains docile.
“As you know, I won Willow in a game of poker. She’s my lucky charm.”
I narrow my eyes at Alek, furious at him. Just what is he playing at? Does he propose to “win me” so he can take me away from here? Suddenly, the idea doesn’t seem so bad.
Frank shakes his head, but I see Santo place his hand over Frank’s bouncing leg. “What are the terms?”
So this is what it feels like to be treated like nothing but a commodity. I now realize that regardless of how much Alek has changed, Willow will always remember that he was the man who bought her.
“How about winner takes all the money and a night with these beautiful women?”
The men lick their lips like the hungry wolves that they are as they ogle Willow.
Christian’s attention is on Saint. “What about him?”
Alek shrugs and questions, “What about him? You want him too? That’ll cost you extra.”
Saint’s jaw clenches. There’s no way he’d allow this, so they clearly have a plan. I can only hope it’s to win me as their prize. My anger