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Roman cleared his throat, forcing away the sentimental thoughts. “I have an offer for you.”
“There is nothing you could offer me that would have me sharing my vaults with you,” Armando declared.
Roman was silent, contemplating his next move. He knew his uncle would say no. But he also knew he had something Armando wanted very much. Shifting tactics, he asked, “Who’s that with you?”
Armando narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think I’m not alone?”
Roman chuckled scornfully. “I’m not an idiot, Armando. I haven’t lost my edge.”
“You were never an idiot. It was one of your most redeeming qualities,” Armando admitted. He snapped his fingers, scowling when nothing happened. “Get over here,” he barked out.
Roman smirked. It seemed all was not perfect in the Romano mansion. He quickly lost his amusement, though, when a young man stepped into view. Tall, fit, and hardened by years in a cartel—and now the mafia—Sergio was Armando’s wife’s eldest child. And given Armando was sterile, Sergio was also his chosen heir. He had been only nine when Roman left the family, but even at such a tender age, Roman had been able to see the crazy in his eyes. It hadn’t changed, even though Sergio must now be twenty-six years old.
“Sergio,” Roman greeted him.
“Traitor,” Sergio sneered back.
Armando sighed. “Boys...”
“Why are you even entertaining his call?” Sergio demanded. “You should have hung up the moment you knew who it was.”
Armando’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Are you telling me what to do?”
Roman saw how much it burned Sergio’s ass to reply with a “No, sir.”
Armando stared at his stepson for a moment longer before refocusing on Roman. “How did you get this number, anyway? Your clever brother?”
Roman said nothing, his face deliberately blank.
“Luca, right?” Sergio spoke up from his position standing next to Armando’s chair. “I heard he’s so screwed up from his childhood as a whore that he voluntarily chooses to fuck men now.”
Roman fisted his hands on his thighs, beneath the table where they couldn’t be seen. His expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes must have, because Sergio lost his superior grin. Roman stared the other man down until he looked away. If it was possible, he would have reached through the screen and beaten Sergio to a pulp.
“This conversation is over,” Roman said coldly, reaching forward to hang up.
“Good. Run away with your tail tucked between your legs,” Sergio taunted.
“Quit it!” Armando shouted. “Both of you.”
“I don’t take orders from you,” Roman told him flatly. His eyes flicked to Sergio, who looked pissed from the reprimand. “And neither does he, it seems.”
“Fuck you!” Sergio yelled, leaning in close to the camera.
“Silenzio!” Armando demanded, blocking Sergio with an arm.
Sergio glared down at his stepfather. “He disrespects you. He committed patricide. He has forsaken the family and yet you’re still talking to him.”
“You are the one being disrespectful,” Armando murmured, a warning in his tone. He looked back at Roman. “What were you going to offer?”
Roman gave real consideration to telling them both to fuck off and hanging up. But that would be cutting off his nose to spite his face. And he still needed the information. “I’ll give you Manhattan.”
He had thought long and hard about what he could successfully dangle in front of his uncle’s greedy eyes. Manhattan was it. When he left New York, he turned his back on everything, cutting ties and burning bridges. Except for one area. Manhattan. That, he held onto for spite.
He had a group of people there that he paid handsomely to maintain his territory and retain a certain underbelly strip of the expensive and coveted demographic of New York. His father had loved the row of expensive townhouses. And when he signed them over to Roman on his sixteenth birthday as a show of good faith and apparent love, they became legally Roman’s. There was nothing Armando could do about it unless Roman chose to sell.
Roman had considered blowing them up years ago, but in the end, the idea of ongoing torture had won out. It also gave him leverage, and it kept his toe in the New York pool just enough. He knew how much Armando wanted the property and the territory. His main reason was pride. But Roman didn’t give a shit what the motivation was. The fact that his uncle wanted it so badly was enough.
Armando was silent for a long time and the two men’s eyes locked. Roman waited it out. He could stare all day if he had to. It was Armando who blinked first, sitting back in his seat. But Roman wasn’t fooled. The man was not as relaxed as he appeared to be.
