we’d retaliate,” he asked, his tone incredulous.
“I think that’s exactly what they want us to do. Retaliate quickly.”
“Then we need to cut them off at the knees,” he suggested.
I nodded, my heart racing. “Shit, I need a fucking drink.” I could hear the sound of several male voices. “Let me guess, Father called in reinforcements to help crush Calleja.”
He swung a gaze toward the door. “That I’m not certain of. They were already behind closed doors when I arrived. You know how this works with the Charlines scum. They have no intention of trying to take a portion of the business.”
“No. They want it all.”
Just then, the door opened. I certainly wasn’t surprised at the sight of the three men walking out of my father’s office, their stoic faces a clear indication that they were concerned about the decision I’d made in accepting the invitation. If so, my guess was that they’d already heard the news I’d taken out Peron, which would send a smoke signal straight to the Los Charlines.
War was on, the battle brewing for nearly a year.
The past several months had seen their share of turmoil for several Mafioso families. My father often consulted with heads of the other organizations from Spain, Italy, and Portugal, even considering them friends. The three Dons—Antonio Caruso, Leonardo Hugo, and Francesco Piero—were all powerful men, just as brutal as my father. Their alliance had always fascinated me, although I’d remained surprised my father would allow it given his background.
Sanchez Santiago was known as a fair and reputable man, respected amongst the various Dons for years. They valued his leadership capabilities and the majority of his decisions regarding business, violence in the streets unnecessary until threats had been made. This time, he was wrong. We would have to take out a significant portion of their organization if only to make a point to any of the other lowlifes who believed we were easy pickings.
There’d been rumors on the streets of Galicia for several weeks of a possible takeover attempt, the Los Charlines hungering to control not only the drug trade operation, but the even more lucrative cigarette industry. In my opinion, my father hadn’t taken the innuendos seriously enough. However, blood would rain in the streets before my family allowed them to usurp us.
While the three Dons might be unhappy with our family’s decision, they knew better than to cross my father. They also had to know that given the assassination attempt, all codes of honor should be pushed aside.
After all, Alviro Calleja was considered little more than an animal. He’d cut his mother into pieces if he believed her death would help him gain more power. Perhaps he’d meant for Peron to die.
“What the hell does all this mean?” Dartanian asked quietly.
“You know exactly what it means, brother.”
“Yeah, I guess I do. The last I heard, Gilly and the kids are on vacation in the United States. I think they’re visiting her mother in Georgia.”
I inhaled, holding my breath. Our other brother’s death had left his beautiful family so alone, his wife not wanting to move back to her native country. Gilly also hadn’t wanted to do anything with our family, even though she’d been offered protection. I was thankful she was spending time with her family. For now. Although if the threat was to be taken seriously, distance wouldn’t matter. “We need to keep them there until this bullshit blows over.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see what Pops has to say. You know as well as I do, he prefers his entire family close. He may require that she return.”
“Then I may refuse to allow that to happen,” I said under my breath, forcing another smug grin to cross my brother’s mouth.
My father dropped his smile as soon as the others were out of sight, motioning us into his office. It would seem the meeting had been heated. Within seconds, my father moved toward the set of open French doors, grabbing his usual glass of scotch from the edge of his desk. He tipped his face as the light breeze wafted across him and into the room, lifting the crystal tumbler as if toasting to the heavens.
“We need to protect our family and our people,” my father said with distinct conviction. “This shit is going to get violent.”
“And we will,” I stated, able to see how troubled he was. No one needed another bloody war, but we’d been pushed into a corner.
I glanced at Dartanian who lifted his eyebrows, shrugging slightly. While