is now the Table of Two Famiglias, Vendetti and Morelli, no other. Your wife is no longer Castelano. It puts an end to the cleansing.”
A lot of people had to die for the transition to happen. Dante’s hands may even be bloodier than mine after all of this. The syndicate lost many good soldiers, underbosses, and captains because of the Vendettis’ thirst for power. Things would’ve changed to get Thaddaeus at the head of the table, but I don’t believe it would’ve been nearly this drastic. One thing I know for sure is that we need to be recruiting on the mass level. It can’t all be family like these Italians prefer. The Vendettis have damn near an army behind them, the Empire is so vast. They’ll run straight through us if we don’t do something, and soon.
“Including my wife’s mum and father?”
“Si. I saved them for last. Didn’t want word to spread through their famiglia that their seat had been compromised and not be able to finish them all off.”
“Then it sounds as if we’ve both held up our ends of the agreement. I’ll pass this info on to Joker.”
Rather than be done with it and hang up, he asks, “Are you going to be the one to break the news to her?”
“No. My wife will discover it by another source, I’m sure. I’ll skip being questioned in the cross hairs.”
“Probably smarter. She seemed to have a bit of spirit in her at the wedding.”
Spirited is an understatement. My wife has straight-up sass. I’d rather be the one she runs to in her grief, not one she questions about how it happened. “I’ll talk to Joker. I suppose you’ve already informed your brother?”
“My capo knows everything.”
“All right then, until Wednesday.” It’s the usual day that the meetings take place and collective business is discussed. I’ve been to more than I can count. Each seat has the head of their family and one guard is permitted to come inside and stand at the back against the wall. Thaddaeus always has me with him each week.
“Wednesday,” he agrees with a grunt and hangs up.
I slide my mobile into my inside pocket and sit back in the same spot at the cheap foldable six-foot table made of fake wood. There’re a few scales and my laptop to make notes on the money I collect. I set the next stack of cash on the scale and bring up the dealer’s number on my computer. It helps me keep track of how much product he had, when he’d taken it, and what was due. The numbers stop and the cash is an ounce off the number it needs to be. I stare at the scum across from me. Did he know it wasn’t the correct amount?
I swear these arseholes think I’m toying with them when it comes to this shit. I meet his gaze. He’s oblivious and relaxed until my attention trains on him. “Are you aware that it’s off?” I question calmly.
His eyes widen, mouth falling open. “I-” he starts to sputter.
I reach across, slamming the front of his face into the table, causing it to rock. My chair flies out from behind me as I stand. “Was I not bloody fucking crystal clear with you fucks the last time someone was short on cash as to what would happen?”
He pales, shaking his head.
“I wasn’t?” I mock, knowing he’s shitting a brick too badly to speak out against what I’m saying. I yank my Glock out and put one between his eyes, rather than waste any more of my time on it.
I tuck my gun away and turn to the few remaining there. “Everyone understand?”
They nod franticly. At this rate, I’ll require new dealers for the streets, as well as the crew needing more soldiers. Criminals just can’t help themselves from dipping their fingers into the pot. It’s what places me, Tyson, Cage, and Dillion far apart from the others. We know when to keep our hands clean and when not to. Don’t fuck with Joker’s money. It’s the first thing he’ll tell you if you’re in this business.
“Andre.” I gesture for him to step forward.
“Sir?”
“Tell that bloke you’re related to, your cousin, or nephew, or whatever the hell he is, to send me some new dealers. They can be from other schools so it doesn’t cut into his sales, I don’t care, just send them. Perhaps some more young fellows are the way to go. We will have them too fearful to