Page 136 of Cartel King

Javier says what we’ve all thought since we rescued Catalina from their warehouse. One of our informants already told us Seamus lost his ever-loving mind and went on a rampage. The O’Briens are short another dozen men. Their newest pot shipment from Jamaica now belongs to the O’Rourkes. Gareth’s in the hospital and will be for at least another month from what Seamus’s ham-hock fists and size fourteen boots did.

“When Jesus is out several million over the border deal, they’ll have something to say, especially Cormac.”

I’ve been watching the last man standing in that family. Cormac’s getting way too close to Jesus’s family for my comfort, so I’m waiting for the perfect opportunity to shake shit up. There’s going to be a reckoning between the Mancinellis and the O’Rourkes one of these days, and I pray I’m there to see all of it. Maybe Ellie and my wedding reception since they’ll be on their best behavior, and I’ll consider it a gift from both families.

I need to propose before I make plans for the wedding and reception, but that’ll happen soon enough. For now, I’m content the pieces have all fallen into place to deal with the other families.

“That fucker can go to hell.”

Javier shrugs at my scowl and proclamation. I’m going to kill Salvatore. This might be the year I really do it. Thathijo de putajust can’t leave well enough alone. He came to Tommaso’s defense and is trying to smooth things over for him with the Torrettas. Now I have the Vizzinisandthe Torrettas planning to fuck me over because I’m pissed the Vizzinis fucked Ellie over.

“Tío, we’ll deal with them another way. When God closes a door, somewhere He opens a window.”

“Or you could just leave it alone.”

I turn toward Ellie as she walks into the dining room. She comes to stand beside me, and I greet her with a peck on her lips. We’ve only been apart ten minutes, but I love how I can do that whenever I want. We finished moving her in two weeks ago, and it’s been bliss being together whenever we want. We’re good at reading each other and knowing when we each want space but gravitating toward each other when we want to be together. We’ve fallen into easy routines of dividing the household tasks, and it’s as though we’ve always lived together.

“Enrique, let it go, please. He’ll fuck up some other way soon enough. Deal with him over that, but move on from this. It’ll freak him out more if you drop it. It’ll leave him worrying and wondering what’s coming next. It’ll distract him, and he’ll open himself up to something else. Strike then. No one will think you lost. They’ll think you’re plotting. Keep them guessing, but in the meantime, don’t let him occupy your mind.”

I want to believe Ellie, and she’s right to an extent. Much of syndicate life is machismo. No leader wants someone to one up them. None want to appear weak. None want someone else to get the last word. It’s better to change the subject.

But Salvatore is the one I’m super pissed at. He could’ve let me deal with the Vizzinis and stayed out of it. He could’ve even helped repair the rift after it happened. But the nosey fucker just had to butt in. And that fucking complicates shit.

“Javier, check on the sparrows and get back to me.”

“Sí, tío.”

My nephew offers us a smile before heading out, leaving us alone. The Italian sparrow is the national bird, so when we can’t use the Mancinelli name, that’s how we refer to them. The sparrow is a sturdy bird that can survive much, but they’re small and can be crushed or scooped up and torn apart by a larger bird of prey.

The nickname’s fitting because I intend to crush the Mancinellis’ Bronx new housing project. They’re about to have a walk out. None of those construction workers will show up. Fuck their union. I’ll make sure they’re paid—not to go to work. Salvatore’s budget will skyrocket once he has to find people willing to work for him—which he won’t—not to mention the hit he’ll take on wasted equipment and supplies. His client will shit a brick, and it’ll look horrible in front of the city, who he’s pandering to for a large, low-income, bond-funded project.

“Daddy, I’m serious. I know things are always in the works, but I don’t want the constant reminders of the life I tried to leave behind. I don’t want it to be the focus of our new life together.”

Then I’ll have to do a better job of not discussing it around Ellie.

“Daddy, don’t you think I’ll know you’re still dealing with them? There’s no way I won’t know that my boyfriend is engaged in a feud with my old boss.”

“I don’t want you caught in the middle, Ellie. But I won’t let this go. It’s not about Tommaso right now. It’s tangential.”

She stares at me for a moment before nodding, and I can tell she’s retreating. I don’t want this to be our first fight, and I don’t want this to put distance between us. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her close, but she doesn’t relax against me like she usually does. I rest my free hand heavily at the base of her throat, causing her head to tip back. I feel a sliver of tension ease from her. I increase the pressure, and her shoulders relax. I squeeze a little more, and her body presses into mine.

She’s giving me control. She may not agree with how I’m handling this, but she needs to feel someone has control without it having to be her. Or maybe she feels like the situation is still out of control, but she’s glad I’m controlling something. She’s called me Daddy twice. That should have been my clue.

“Chiquita, I’ll sort it all out. I’ll keep you and my sisters safe.”

“I know you will. I just wish you could move onto the next disaster. One that doesn’t involve me or the family I once belonged to and worked for.”

“Do you still feel guilty about this?”

“How can I not?”

“Because what’s going on now isn’t because of you.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m simple. Whatever you planned to do to Tommaso made its way to Salvatore. You’ve probably already dealt with Tommaso for his role in things getting fucked up with Ignacio, or maybe you were going to hold him harmless for that. But whatever you tried to do, you did it because you’re pissed about how he treated me. Now you’re pissed Salvatore protected him somehow. I may not have been privy to all the Vizzinis’ inner workings, but I knew enough to accomplish my missions. I know how syndicates operate. I know what slights can be overlooked and which can’t. I could ask you what happened, and I could ask what you plan to do. But I won’t. I know you won’t tell me, and I won’t make you lie to me. How this plays out isn’t me guessing. You might keep the specifics secret, but don’t think you can keep how things work from me.”

“And if I don’t want you thinking about this? If I want you to let me worry about it?”

“The only way you can control my thoughts is to make sure there’s nothing to think about.”

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