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I cut him off, “Relax, Sebastian. I already briefed the Don on the situation.”
“Care to share with the rest of us?” Adrian asks, twirling a lighter in his hands.
“Well, since you asked nicely.”
I tell them all about what happened and Santiago’s carefully delivered threats.
“He went through all that, sent those men to their deaths, just to inform us that he’s declaring war?” Marco asks with a frown.
Adrian leans back in his chair. “He has a flair for the dramatic.”
“And an appetite for blood, it seems. Who carved ‘Maranzano’ into the dead man’s face?”
Our Don looks unsettled by that particular tidbit of the story. His last name being used as a trigger for a war isn’t something to be taken lightly.
“I’ve been looking into it, and I’m pretty sure Santiago did it himself,” I state.
The men raise their eyebrows.
“He killed his own man?” Adrian asks, slightly amused.
“I have reason to believe so, yes. Like Marco said, he seems to have an appetite for blood, or death. He needed a good reason to start a fight, so he created one on his own. He’s a psychopath. One that should have never become the head of the cartel. He needs to be taken care of, and quickly.”
“He controls the largest cartel in the city. It won’t be easy to get rid of him,” Marco points out.
I shrug. “I’m up for the challenge. As long as you provide me with some men.”
Marco nods in acceptance.
“Nico and Marco will take care of Santiago. Sebastian and Adrian will handle the Irish. Now that all of that is settled,” Valerio gets to his feet, signaling the end of the meeting, “I expect progress reports from each of you in two weeks. We’ll have another meeting then.”
The Don leaves, followed by his loyal lap dog, Sebastian. It doesn’t take too long before Marco walks out the door as well, leaving only Adrian and I. He flicks open a lighter in his hand before closing it again. He does it one more time before looking up at me.
“It would probably be in your best interests to stop baiting ol’ Seb,” he says, lips tilted in a smirk.
“I don’t need advice from you.”
“Sure, but it’s free, so just take it.”
I cross my arms over my chest, observing him for a moment. He’s relatively new to the game and has yet to show all of his cards, which makes me antsy. Right now, Adrian is unpredictable. And if there’s anything I hate, it’s unpredictability.
“You want to figure me out,” Adrian says perceptively. “No need to try so hard, Ramirez. I’m on your side. In fact, I want to be your ally.”
“I don’t need allies.”
“The Don is dying, isn’t he?” he asks, and the question is so unexpected that I arch an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s pretty obvious.”
“The Don’s health doesn’t concern you.”
“His health concerns the entire outfit,” Adrian retorts. “Who takes charge once he’s gone?”
My jaw clenches. “His heir.”
“He doesn’t have an heir.”
“Doesn’t he?” I ask, my tone light, conveying none of my emotions.
Valerio has made no move to hide his wish that I will take over the position of Don once he’s gone. But in our world, things aren’t simply handed to you—you fight for them. And in my case, I’ll have to fight even harder than most.
