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“What information do you need?” Armando eventually responded.
Sergio spun on his stepfather. “You can’t be serious?!”
“Sergio...”
Armando’s tone held a dire warning. One Roman was well familiar with. But Sergio was either deaf or too stupid to take heed.
“Armando, he’s a traitor!” Sergio shouted, literally stomping his foot.
Armando rose from his seat, standing toe to toe with his heir. “I am head of this family and I say who we do business with. Understand?”
Sergio’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “But...”
“Get the fuck out.” Armando pointed to his right. “I will conduct the rest of this meeting alone.”
“Meeting? Since when did this become a meeting?” Sergio pushed.
Roman could barely contain his happiness. Everything was going better than he had hoped. And it was all thanks to the idiot who didn’t know when to hold his tongue. It was a lesson Roman had learned very early on when he had witnessed his father removing them from his employees when they spoke out of turn.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Armando warned, his eyes flat like a shark’s.
Sergio snarled silently, glaring into the camera one last time. “One day, Roman, you won’t be protected by the old laws and the old ways. And when that day comes, you better be ready for war.”
Roman merely smiled at him. “When that day comes, you better be ready. Now run along like a good dog.” Sergio stormed out and Roman heard a door slam. He raised a brow. “Trouble with your heir, Armando?”
“The boy needs to learn his place,” Armando muttered, forgetting himself for a moment. He shook himself out of it, scowling back at Roman. “I have no doubt that he will. How I run my family is no concern of yours, Roman. Now, why are you willing to give up Manhattan? What information is it you want from the vaults?”
“The man known as Godfrey,” Roman said, getting down to business. “What do you remember about him?”
Armando frowned, resuming his seat. “Godfrey Dewhurst? The millionaire businessman?”
“You remember him?” Roman questioned.
“I do. We still do business,” his uncle revealed.
That was news to Roman. The man known as Godfrey told him he’d cut all ties with the Romano family. Perhaps he should have known better. “What kind of business?”
Armando snorted. “The kind that is none of yours.”
Roman ran his tongue along his top teeth, reminding himself not to lose his temper. “He does business with me, too.”
“Does he now?” Armando murmured easily.
Roman wasn’t fooled. “You didn’t know.”
Armando shrugged negligently. “No more than you knew he was still working with me, I would say.”
“You have me there,” Roman allowed with a nod of his head.
“I’ll discuss it with him when we meet next.”
Not if he’s dead first, Roman thought. Out loud he said, “I need his real name, his location, his friends... anything you have on him.”
Armando steepled his fingers. “And in exchange, you’ll hand over Manhattan?”
“I will,” Roman said. “You have my word.”
“And what, exactly, is your word worth these days?” his uncle mused.
