Taken_ A Dark Mafia Romance - Piper Stone Page 0,7
the new rules. If I heard you correctly the other day, Mr. McCormick is far too busy with international travel for his firm to consider the honor. That leaves three, which officially means you have to break your own rules in order to fill the last seat. Tsk. Tsk, brother.”
I’d been indoctrinated into the Sacred Sect as a young boy, told about the requirements in order to live and find favor within the community. My father had been so proud of all that the Council had accomplished, beaming the day he sat me down in his office to explain the glorious details. The few men and their families selected to be a part of the secured organization pledged allegiance to our ways no matter the circumstances. They were also required to keep the closely guarded secrets for fear of death.
We were dangerous people after all.
We’d been referred to as the mafia of the Hamptons, a joke to true crime families, although if anyone truly knew what we were capable of, they would never attempt to cross us. We had enough ammunition on politicians, law enforcement, and corporate moguls to ruin a solid percentage of the rich and famous. That had allowed us to remain in control of various industries from real estate to transportation, our influence affecting the outcome of elections in all fifty states.
And even the White House.
We were much more powerful than any of the mafia families.
Including the Taglionis. The Italian crime syndicate had been on our radar for several years, their failed attempts at crowding into our space continuing to piss them off. They were merely biding their time. I’d heard about a number of skirmishes in the streets of New York, corruption increasing, doing everything they could to buy their way into power. It was only a matter of time before they attempted to lure one of our members to their side, coercing them into telling our secrets.
That would make for a bloody day in our world.
Right now, there were far too many internal problems to worry about the Taglionis.
Sadly, for all the combined power within the sect, there was still greed and corruption, the unrest caused by the Council’s demand for change. So many believed in the old ways, ones carved out from a man who’d been nothing but a scam artist.
I feared an upheaval, allowing the piranhas who swam in the ocean waters just outside our doors a way to destroy us. They certainly had attempted to push Senator Bellows, as well as everyone else involved in the latest land development deal in another direction. My guess was that a new round of threats had been instigated. I had the pulse of every industry and my instincts had been on high alert.
A storm was brewing. I just wasn’t entirely certain who the actual enemy was.
Still, the sect remained over two hundred strong, families who thrived within the Hamptons, our wealth and influence beyond the understanding of outsiders. While the original intent had been only to allow the descendants of the five original families to hold an honored position on the Council, the rules had been forced to change.
The esteemed Council seats had been upped to seven. Always an odd number. Always the most merciless, men and their firstborn sons who would continue to wield their wrath without conscience.
His grin widened. “You have been paying attention and you know I’m not opposed to altering rules if necessary.”
“Uh-huh, you only do so if there is a motive behind your decision. By the way, it’s my business to know everything that’s going on within the Sacred Sect.” The single twitch crossing my brother’s mouth drew my instant attention. He’d been keeping secrets from me. “What is the problem?”
“The unrest is regarding the disbanded use of the Box.”
Exhaling, I studied his eyes. My brother had never liked the old ways, the use of a cult-like religion in order to facilitate arranged marriages and merged corporations disgusting him. When the man who’d been responsible for maintaining the integrity of the ancient and barbaric tradition had been found altering the outcome for his own benefit, the community had almost crumbled to the ground.
Sadly, that had been my true father, a man of the cloth. I hadn’t wept a single tear at his passing, nor had I attended his funeral. His last dying words had damned me for life. I would never be free of the toxic stain of my true heritage. I’d never sought proof that what he’d told me