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“I come in peace,” he states, green eyes twinkling, “And I’ll throw in an apology if that sates your anger.”
“Fuck your apology,” I mutter, my gaze moving back to the fight.
Sebastian has disappeared. I catch sight of him at the back of the group, his eyes still filled with rage as he watches, just as I’m doing. Made men don’t get involved in fights like this. Regardless of the fact that he’s the one that started it. We let the capos continue, watching as they give in to the bloodlust they all seem to carry within them at all times.
“You did that,” Adrian says from beside me, gesturing at the open courtyard.
I blow out a breath. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Your claim is already fraying at the edges of the carefully constructed order in the outfit. I’d wager this is the first fight out of many to come. At least until we find ourselves a Don.”
A muscle tics in my jaw. “This wouldn’t be happening if it wasn’t for fucking Sebastian.”
“Sebastian is an old man with pure-blooded ideas who carries a lot of hate in his heart. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”
“And you think I will.”
“No. If anything, I know you’ll fight harder than him. Which is why I’m here to offer you my assistance. Wanna be friends?”
He stretches a hand toward me. I’m suddenly filled with the urge to punch his face, wiping off that irritating grin he always seems to sport.
“I don’t trust you, Adrian. And I don’t need you.”
He flicks an eyebrow up. “I know you’re not stupid, so that can’t be it. You need me, Ramirez. You need allies if you hope to ascend to the throne. Despite what you may believe, you can’t do it alone. Out of the five of us that sit at the Don’s table, I’m your best bet. Sebastian fucking hates you. Marco will likely cast his dice later in the game, when he has a clear view of who’s going to win. He won’t support you, and he won’t support Sebastian. Not now.”
He's right. Marco left as soon as the funeral was over. He hasn’t said a word about this predicament we’ve found ourselves in. The old man’s a slimy eel. His loyalty is to himself. He’ll do anything to survive, and that includes not picking a side in a war that could likely bury us all.
“You’d have better luck convincing Marco to support you than you would getting The Shadow to show himself,” Adrian continues. “Which means you’ve only got me, Ramirez.”
The way he says that grates on my nerves. Like he wants me to depend on him.
“I still don’t trust you, Rossi,” I state simply.
“You could learn to. Come on, do you not understand the basics of a friendship?”
“I don’t need friends. And I already have a plan in place.”
Adrian smiles. “Yes, that plan. How long do you think it’ll take Sebastian to realize you’re going after Valerio’s daughters?”
“It doesn’t matter. By the time he realizes it, I’ll have won.”
“Okay then. If I were you, I’d get on with my plans and fast. Time’s ticking, Ramirez.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I straighten, leaving his side and heading to the middle of the courtyard.
“Enough,” I say in a steady voice that carries.
My men immediately listen. Sebastian’s men look to him for directions, and he lifts a hand to halt them as well. My eyes connect with Vlad, and I nod once. He steps towards me, and after one last glance at Sebastian, we leave.
Time to pay the princess a visit.
“Station two men at every warehouse we have under our control. Make sure they have their guard up at all times. If Sebastian wants to attack, he’ll go for the warehouses first,” I tell Vlad.
He nods once from the front seat before grabbing his phone to deliver my message. Every made man has a purpose within the outfit. It’s an organization, after all—we all have roles to play. And my role involves controlling the chain of supply and demand. Alcohol, drugs, weapons, everything has to go through me. That’s the power I wield. And taking all that away is the same as cutting off my legs.
A fact that Sebastian and every made man is aware of.
“Tell me who’s on our side and who’s not,” I prompt, scrolling through the tablet in my hand.
