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I’ll deal with any of the former hounds who have issues with the shake down. It took me an entire day to profile each of the former members. Now everything was rolling into play.
I can sense we are close and I am about to bury the fucker who thought he might get away with this.
Lorenzo’s phone begins to buzz and he takes the call. I drag the closest profile toward me. Ivan. He’d started as a Hound, then was promoted to my father’s second in charge and by default became mine after his death.
Whoever is on the other end of Lorenzo’s phone is rapidly speaking.
“Boss, one of your clubs are burning,” Lorenzo says. The others go still as I slowly edge my gaze on him.
A cold calculated calm washes over me. Who the fuck had the audacity to target my clubs as well?
Was it the same person targeting my cargo ships?
I’d run this business under a tight rein for years, so why now and all of a sudden was somebody trying to underhand my dealings?
“Which one?”
He swallows. “Amor.” A fury begins to rage inside of me. The only club I let Dario manage. The only responsibility I gave him and he can’t even protect that.
“Was Dario there?”
Lorenzo seems to hesitate before reluctantly saying, “No.”
47
LUCA
Amor is burnt to the fucking ground. Police officers, bystanders, and media are standing behind yellow tape. I don’t give a fuck about the establishment itself. I didn’t use it to conduct any of my other business here. My jaw tics at the tight leash which is slipping. This could encourage any of my enemies to start attempting their own shit. Though I doubt anyone in the past who’s crossed me would attempt it twice, not that many of them were still alive.
“Mr. Armani. We need to ask you a few questions,” one of the detectives on the scene say. One I’m not familiar with. He’s barged out of the way by one of their senior members, Craig. A man who I also practically own.
Anything associated in my name that goes amiss he’s on the scene immediately. He keeps my name out of speculation with the law and in return has a nice shiny paycheck. The young detective sinks back into himself as he walks away to assist fire fighters.
“Should I be suspicious of this?” Craig asks.
When I look at him, he flinches, and I can only imagine the promising death in my gaze. “No,” I say. “I want you to narrow it down to an unsuspected kitchen fault.”
“They’re saying so far it might look like arson,” he advises.
“Do I have to repeat myself?” I quip.
“No, Mr. Armani. I’ll do exactly that.”
I will deal with the culprit better than any law.
The media try to draw me in for interviews but I ignore them as I step back into the car where Lorenzo is waiting.
First, there’s just one more idiot I have to deal with.
My brother has done so many stupid things in the past but this was the breaking point. This is another unnecessary chip to our empire that makes us look weak. I storm into the family mansion’s office library where Dario waits.
With my explosive entrance, he shoots out of his chair. “Why won’t you let me leave to see Amor?” He’s a mess with red rimmed eyes and looks like he hasn’t showered. Obviously, another big night.
“Roll up your sleeves. Do you have track marks right now?”
“What? No!”
I grab him by the collar of the shirt and slam him against the library shelves. “You’ve made a fucking fool of us!”
