Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“Pick out five trustworthy cousins and make sure everyone understands what happens when you steal from the family. There’s no coming back for the twins. I want their throats cut and their bodies left somewhere public. Send a message.”
Niall nods as he puts away his phone. “Yeah, all right, that solves them, but what about the bigger picture?”
“You made your point.” I stare at him, not smiling now. “I’ll handle the cousins.”
Niall finishes his drink and leaves not long after that. I tell him to keep my door closed for a few minutes while I get my shit together. I pace across the room, frustration welling up in my chest. Donal and Ewan stealing from my shipment is bad, and Niall’s right, it wouldn’t have happened a year ago, let alone when my father was in charge. That, plus all the mutterings, leaves a bad feeling in my chest.
There are factions in the Hayes Group, always have been, and I don’t control them all. They listen to me, because I’m my father’s son and I’ve done a good job at making everyone stronger, but I’m not infallible.
It’s a matter of respect and legitimacy. It’s a matter of growth, endless and limitless growth.
I think about Valentina again. About the look on her face when I turned her down. She was devastated but didn’t want to admit it, and I hated to do it. But now I wonder if I was too hasty in sending her away, if maybe we can help each other out more than I thought at first.
She needs something from me, and I might be able to get something from her in exchange.
But first, I have a couple of cousins that I need to kill.
Chapter 3
Valentina
I’m cold and my legs are cramped and I really wish I wore warmer clothes. It’s Chicago in the fall, and while it’s sunny and comfortable during the day, at night I’m freezing my ass off.
Cars come and go. I stay hidden on a rise overlooking an old junky garage building with two big bay doors and a ton of scraps heaped up against a chain-link fence. A hungry-looking guard dog lurks around like a ghost, and at least two men patrol the exterior, especially when the vehicles get driven in.
They always come one at a time and never overlap. There’s usually a half-hour gap between arrivals. It starts at six in the evening and doesn’t stop until six in the morning. Car after stolen car gets loaded into the bay then disassembled by an ant-hive of humans with saws and welding torches and whatever else they need. I watch and make notes and take pictures when I can, but I don’t have the best angle, and I don’t really want to move.
Three days of this. Twelve hours of staring, waiting, mind-numbing boredom, and hunger. I can’t forget the hunger. I’m on my last pack of hot dogs and ramen, and I’m stretching it out as much as I can. Which means one meal per day, max.
But I can handle it. I’m a Santoro. Worthless. Useless. I know how to suffer.
The night gets deeper. My stomach rumbles, but I just ignore it. Not much else I can do. At one point, the dog starts barking like crazy and I worry that it smells me somehow, even though I’m pretty far away, but it’s only a squirrel. I’m that paranoid.
Ronan has to go for this. I was bluffing when I said I’d go to Julien, and forget about Dusan and the Serbians. I wouldn’t go near that psycho for anything. Which leaves collecting enough information that Ronan has to see it’s a really good idea.
There aren’t enough guards. Not for the scale of this operation. And the guards they do have are lazy. They do patrols, but sporadically, and only a couple times per night. It wouldn’t be hard to sneak a dedicated group of maybe eight men around back, kick open the door, kill anyone inside, and ransack the place. Heck, I’m tempted to try it myself.
My back hurts. My arms ache from holding up my phone. I’m exhausted, and by the time the sun comes up and the car shipments are done for the evening, I’m practically delirious with hunger. It’s so damn frustrating, and as I slowly crawl away from my spot on the hill, I think about all the ways my life has let me down.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never wanted to be the kind of girl that relied on her father’s generosity, but Dad never gave me any other option. He was controlling and protective, but he was also generous with his time and always bringing me into meetings. I learned how to run a mafia organization from one of the best that ever did it—and for a while, I dreamed about taking over the Famiglia when he was ready to pass it along, or at least spending my days in an important position within the organization.