Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“What’s your strategy?” Vello asked me.
“We wait for the perfect timing.” I swung my gaze between them, pouring myself another drink. “Then, we ambush them when they least expect it.”
“Ambush them? In their own territory?” Enzo’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a war declaration.”
“Wars have the tendency to end you if you don’t end them first,” I said curtly. “If we wait around twiddling our thumbs for the Russians to strike, we’ll lose. Better to throw our big dicks on the table and get it over with.”
“You can’t just barge in and go on a rampage,” Vello coughed out. A dying horse on his way to the glue factory. No wonder the Ferrantes hid him from plain sight.
“What a preposterous thing to say. Of course I can,” I countered. “You’ve been playing too much chess, Vello. Once you start moving knights and bishops, sacrificing pawns, you alert your enemy he is on a battlefield. Better to let him find out when there’s a sword wedged between his ribs.”
“Fine. Let’s say we ambush them,” Achilles said. “Then what?”
“We leave a void in the West Coast.” Luca took a drag of his cigarette, smoke skulking out of his nostrils. “Vegas, LA, San Francisco, Bakersfield, and the border.”
“We’ll divide them between us and take over.” I prowled over to them, plucking a U.S. map from my back pocket and splaying it on Vello’s table. “Appoint our own people, open our own charters. The Russians run a basic operation. Weapons. Human trafficking. Cartel. Igor never struck alliances with American governmental bodies. Mayors, senators, feds. Waltzing in and taking over will be a piece of cake.”
“And if his soldiers come for us in retaliation?” Enzo arched his brow.
I shrugged. “We kill their families and make them watch. Once we go through the first and second ranks, the rest will slink away.”
Vello rubbed his chin, tugging at the dialysis cords hooked to his arm. “And when do you suggest we strike?”
“A few months, when the dust settles.” Now that Igor was dead, the Bratva was in disarray. “His son Alex is a capable man, but he’s in Russia now, tangled up in cleaning up the mess his father left behind.”
“When’s he coming back?” Luca asked.
“Not soon, is my guess. Igor spent the last four decades cozying up to politically connected oligarchs who are now being persecuted by the new Russian government. He needs to rebuild connections there. Start from scratch.”
And find a wife. Now that Igor was dead, his sons needed heirs, fast. Like the Camorra, the Bratva liked to keep things in the family.
“What about the other brothers?” Achilles said.
“Jeremie and Slava are in the United States,” I said. “So is the baby sister, Katya. I hear she wants to go to college on the East Coast, so Alex might contact you to ask for permission to send her to Camorra territory.”
“You moonlighting as a college adviser?” Enzo snorted. “How the fuck do you know where she wants to go to school?”
Because I make it a point to know every time a Rasputin shits, eats, or breathes.
“Sam Brennan’s been keeping tabs for me. The siblings are holding down the fort in Vegas.” I shrugged. “Push comes to shove, I can always fly to Moskva and finish Alex off myself. Throw the system into chaos, then take down the rest of the Rasputins here.”
“Moskva?” Vello’s mouth tugged at one corner.
“Moscow,” I corrected. Fuck.
“That’s not what you said,” Luca pointed out.
“That’s what I fucking meant.”
But it was too late. A chink had chipped in my armor. They detected it. The disease festering underneath my ragged exterior. My secret.
“So, we wait for your word to strike?” Achilles finally spoke.
“Yes.”
“Timeframe?”
“Six to seven months.”
They looked between them. My jaw flexed. “They won’t make the first move. They’re recuperating from the pakhan’s death and waiting for Alex.”
“It’s not that.” Luca shook his head.
“Am I missing something? Do you have some big plans for that period?”
“No, stronzo, you do,” Enzo spluttered. “You’re welcoming a baby.”
I was welcoming bleeding nothing. I wasn’t going to stick around for their sister nor for the bastard in her womb. I had other plans. Ones that didn’t include a family.
“I can multitask.” I plucked a pen from Vello’s desk and circled my desired Bratva territories. “Be on standby. I’ll send word when I have an update.”
Making my way to the double doors, I stopped at the sound of Vello hissing my name. His voice was as frail as his diminishing body.
I glanced over my shoulder. “Yes?”
“Have you started looking for Lila’s attacker?”
No. It was the last thing on my mind. But I guessed the sooner I was done with this, the sooner I could have Harlem and expand my territory.
“Don’t worry. You’ll have his skull on your desk before the bastard’s born.”
CHAPTER NINE
LILA
The sun slinked beneath thick gray clouds as Tiernan’s Mercedes weaved in and out of lanes on our way to Hunts Point. He was talking on the phone, and I was relieved not to be the center of his attention. His undivided focus was a very dangerous place to be. I didn’t plan to visit it often.