a sound like he’d just choked on his own breath. “Pedro Silva? Are you shitting me?”
Oh, yeah, Ricardo was having way too much fun with this. “I guarantee he was involved in arranging the hit with whoever pawned it off on us. That’s the kind of dirty work he does for the family. So I’m suggesting that you arrange a meeting with him. Tell him you’ve got a problem that needs fixing, and you’re hoping he can get you in touch with someone who might have the right tools.” He shrugged. “Play a little stupid. Like you don’t really know how organized crime works, and you’ve just heard rumors that Pedro knows people who can stop other people from being a pain in your ass. Tell him you’d like a referral.”
With an exasperated sigh, August pinched the bridge of his nose. Dropping his hand to the table with a hard smack, he fixed an exhausted look on Ricardo. “You… You really want me to sit down with the public face of the goddamned Cavalcante family and pussyfoot around him maybe referring me to someone who can fix my problems. I mean, what if he just puts me in touch with a fixer or something? What am I supposed to say? Oh, never mind, he’s not a problem anymore? This plan is insane, Ricky.”
“Is it, though?” Ricardo folded his hands in his lap and tilted his head. “All you have to do is play entitled rich kid who has a pain in his ass and the financial resources to do something about it. That should be easy for you.”
August narrowed his eyes slightly, looking equal parts offended and amused. “Mmhmm. And then, what? I ask them who they booked for the Rawlins job, and wait to get fitted for my concrete shoes?”
Ricardo chuckled. “I assume you’re capable of subtlety when the situation warrants it.”
“I am, yes.”
“Good. Use it. Tell them you want the best. Whoever can get a job done quickly, cleanly, and without anything leading back to you or the Cavalcantes. Even get a little snobbish and act like you don’t want to be associated with them. That way they’ll know you’re serious and you’re not a liability who’s going to advertise that you’ve ever had anything to do with them.”
August was blessedly quiet for a moment, eyes unfocused as if he were rolling Ricardo’s idea around in his mind. Probably trying to find some fatal flaw, either so he wouldn’t have to meet with Silva or so he could lord it over Ricardo. Not that Ricardo would’ve minded—if August came up with a problem with this plan, then maybe it would lead them to a better plan. Because he really didn’t like this one. Not even the part where he’d be sending August into the lion’s den. What the fuck was that about? Twenty-four hours ago, he’d have sold his soul for a reason to toss August into the fray and let the wise guys do what they did best.
But he was hesitant this time. Oddly reluctant to let August go in there, especially without him, but he couldn’t figure out a version where they both went in without someone realizing something was up. Especially since Pedro Silva did know Ricardo’s face.
And Ricardo wouldn’t be able to wait outside with a sniper rifle this time. Silva was way too careful for that. August was going in alone and with no one to protect him but himself, and Ricardo didn’t like how uncomfortable that made him.
August sighed and tapped his index fingernail beside the cereal he’d abandoned. “Okay, so hypothetically, if we did this batshittery you call a plan… I mean, what if they ask for a name?” He threw up his hands. “Am I just supposed to make up some random shmuck and hope they don’t know I’m lying?”
“You could use me.”
That got August’s attention. “Use… Use you?”
Ricardo shrugged.
“Well, shit.” August tsked and rolled his eyes. “See, if you’d started with that, I’d have been onboard sooner. Don’t bury the lede on shit like this, dude.”
Shaking his head, Ricardo chuckled. “So are you onboard?”
“For getting the mafia to help me put a hit out on you?” August laughed as he got up and took his cereal bowl to the sink. “Of course I’m in, darling.”
“Uh, just to be clear, this is just so they’ll get you in touch with a hitman. You’re not actually supposed to drop the hammer on the hit.”
“Ricky. Honey.” August appeared beside him and smoothed