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I was already five minutes late, seven by the time I turned into the alley.
“About time, fratello.” It was impossible for Arlo not to mix his Italian, but the word brother was always nice to hear. Another man stood a few feet away from him, who I remembered as Mario. I’d never seen him so close to Arlo. Usually, I would catch glances of him from afar, but maybe he’d moved up to be so near.
“Brat,” I responded in Russian with a nod and a smile, but both quickly faded once a mocking whistle echoed around us.
Arlo dismissed Mario, and Mario silently walked away, returning to the car.
Ugo smirked in the shadows, a cigarette hanging off the corner of his mouth as he leaned back against the brick wall. My hands fisted by his arrogance before Arlo narrowed his eyes, dismissing him as well.
Ugo finally submitted, flicking his cigarette into the alley before trailing Mario to the parked SUV.
“Staying out of trouble?” Arlo asked when he felt comfortable to be out of listening ears.
“Define trouble.”
“Always needing shit spelled out, don’t you?” he snickered, stepping out of the shadow. His dark eyes and strong Italian features erased Ugo’s whistles from minutes before, and my hands relaxed with the familiarity of my brother.
“What can I say? One question leads to a hundred.”
“I’ll give you that. What do you need?” Arlo asked, but my eyes wandered around his attire. He wore black slacks and a black dress shirt with buttoned cuffs.
“New wardrobe?” I asked, already missing his dark tees and full inked sleeves.
“Is this what you came here for?” He tilted his head with furrowed brows.
“No.”
“Then spit it out, Ili.”
“I got a new assignment,” I began, and Arlo straightened. “Who may have a damn death wish by their reckless actions, but it’s only because they’re afraid, and if I can help build their strength and confidence...”
“Why did you come to me with this?” His eyes pried for answers.
“Because something traumatic happened in this person’s past.”
He cut me off. “Haven’t we all?”
“Yes, but we don’t let fear or terror consume our daily life, Arlo.”
Arlo nodded, understanding, but his words were far from what I was searching for. “Ilias, some of us can just hide it better.” I watched as his eyes demanded. “Why do you care?”
“I just do.” I shrugged.
“You realize I master fear in others, not the other way around?” Arlo twisted his head as a loud clatter erupted on the opposite corner where his guys stood. Laughter bounced in the alley, a group of people stumbling along the sidewalk and walking around metal cans. “If you insist, all I can advise is seek medical help? God knows, I wouldn’t. But it could be a start.”
This seemed to be a waste of time.
Annoyed at myself for even meeting him, I shook my head and took a step back to leave.
“Hey, while you are at it, throw in some self-defense? What better way to overcome normal people fears than feeling like you have some form of power?” He chuckled mockingly.
I ignored him.
“Ilias, wait,” Arlo’s voice stopped me, and we were too far apart for our conversation to be private. He knew this too.
Arlo walked up to me, assuring only I could hear as he whispered, “The streets are violent, fratello. The change is here, and newcomers will arrive soon. Lucca and Viktor wish to keep you in the dark, but I’m the one in the field and see the threats. I mean it. Keep your head down and away from us until Miami’s underworld is fully under Moretti’s name.”
“I will. Plus, I have my hands full at the moment.”
