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Aroldo considers it. "Possibly. Everyone knows Salvo has just got married and will be distracted for a while. It's a good opportunity to push our buttons and see where the weaknesses are."
That makes sense. Aroldo is still in charge, but my cousin is making more of the decisions these days, so attacking us while Salvo is on his honeymoon is actually quite smart. Especially as Aroldo is having treatment for prostate cancer and isn't in the best of health.
At least we don't have to deal with the Irish, too. Since Declan's sad demise (cry me a fucking river), along with most of their top capos, they have been flapping around like headless chickens. Cutting the head off the snake has crippled the bastards. Until they reorganize and appoint a new leader, they don't present a credible threat. So, one less problem on my desk to deal with.
The Russians, on the other hand,area credible threat. Alexei is suave and ostensibly just another rich businessman with political connections, but he's been making inroads into the drugs trade, and I know at some point we'll be butting heads. But that's a problem for another day. Right now, we need toget to the bottom of why the Russians supposedly hijacked our weapons shipment.
"What evidence do we have it was Dimitri's crew?" I ask, having missed the start of the meeting.
"An informant on the street plus some camera footage from the area around the docks. A lot of the cameras had been wiped but not all of them."
Aroldo taps his fingers on the table. I hate this room. It's located in the basement. A few doors down are the cells where we hold prisoners, and also the interrogation suite. The smell of bleach, with an underlying hint of metallic blood and rank bodily secretions lingers in the air, no matter how often the room is cleaned. And it is cleaned, regularly. It turns my stomach.
The only way down here is through a metal door with a retinal scanner, and that's hidden behind a false bookcase in one of the admin offices. The last thing we need is the fucking FBI to find their way into the basement. Still, if the worst does happen, Aroldo made sure we have an escape route: there's a tunnel that leads to an abandoned warehouse two blocks away. The exit hatch is well hidden so there is zero chance of anyone finding it. Plus, it can't be opened from the outside.
A random thought of Cara flickers through my mind. My brain conjures up an image of her wearing the silky robe, the way her lush body felt pressed against mine. My cock hardens, just asAroldo is discussing how we can locate Dimitri and the missing weapons. Romano glances down and grins.
"Getting excited about the thought of bloodshed?" he whispers as Aroldo sets out his plan. I shift uncomfortably, not wanting to draw Aroldo's ire. "Or perhaps you're thinking about the little cutie from this morning?" he muses.
I'm about to snarl at him for daring to say anything about Cara when Aroldo notices we're not paying attention.
"Got something to share with the class, boys?" he says in a deceptively polite voice. I could fucking kill Romano. Angry Aroldo is no fun at all. He's a fucking psycho in a cashmere jumper.
"No, Sir," Romano says, lowering his gaze respectfully.
I say nothing at all because it wasn't me talking. At least my boner problem has disappeared. Being caught in Aroldo's spotlight tends to do that.
Aroldo stares at the two of us while the rest of the capos fidget restlessly. Everyone is keen to get moving. There's another shipment of guns due in two weeks, so we need to fix the Dimitri problem before it escalates.
"Romano, I want you to trace what happened to the truck. It didn't just fucking vanish into thin air."
"I'm on it,zio.I have my software scanning for all traces of it as we speak, so we should have some answers shortly."
Aroldo nods. "Christiano, talk to your guys on the street, see if anyone else knows something. Let it be known there's a reward for credible information."
I nod. I'll head out in a bit and speak to Rosie down at the dive bar near the docks. A lot of the Russians drink there, and she'll have likely heard something if Dimitri's crew were in there recently. Those idiots can't keep their mouths shut once they get tanked on cheap vodka.
"Are you contacting Salvatore?" one of the newer guys, Tomasso, asks.
Aroldo glares at him and he nearly pisses himself. "Why would I do that? My son is on his honeymoon."
"Just wondered," Tomasso stammers. "I mean, he usually likes to take point on stuff like this."
"Are you saying I'm no longer fit to run this family?"
Dear lord, Tomasso has really dug a hole for himself. "No, of course not, Sir. I just know Salvo has been wanting to take Dimitri down for a while now, so he might have some ideas..." Tomasso trails off and stares at the floor. Aroldo may be old and not 100% well, but he's not above shooting a man between the eyes for disrespecting him.
"You're right, he would like to be involved," Aroldo concedes. "But he's off the grid right now so until he comes back, I'm running the show, capisce?"
"Yes, Sir." We all nod like the good little lap dogs we are. Personally, I can't wait for Salvo to return. He's a lot less volatile than his father, and therefore less likely to nuke the Russians. I don't believe Alexei is involved in this mess, but Aroldo hates him, which invariably colors his judgment on all things Bratva-related.
Thankfully the meeting wraps up a few minutes later and I go back to my apartment to grab some food before heading out to bang some heads together. The thought of banging a cute pixie girl is a lot more appealing, only I have no idea where she lives.
It's just as well I know someone who does.
Chapter 8
Cara
