Page 92 of Cartel King

There are the lesser syndicates like the Polish and Albanians. No one should overlook them, but they’re at the mercy of the Ivankov bratva. The Kutsenkos chewed up and spat them out a few times. The Polish in NYC arepersona non gratato the O’Rourkes, so the ones up in Boston tread lightly.

There are the street level gangs, but I had nothing to do with them. Tommaso didn’t use me much domestically, and definitely not locally. The chance for someone to recognize me was too great. I refused once I had the boys. I refused to have them watch someone murder me at the park.

I stare at my phone before I hit Tommaso’s contact. It rings four times.

“It’s late, Elodie.”

“Not that late when one of your goons left the photos on my patio table.”

“Huh?”

“Wake the fuck up, Tommaso, and tell me the truth.”

I hear Stella’s voice in the background, asking what I want.

“Put it on speaker for her, Tommy.” Only Stella can call him that, so it’s a definite slight when I do it.

“Elle?”

“I’m sorry to wake you, Stella, but this can’t wait.”

“What happened?”

“That’s what I want Tommaso to explain. Why did you have someone leave photos of me in an envelope on my back patio table?”

It may not be him, but I’ve learned to launch my attack with a bang. If I work up to accusing him of something, he has time to devise his lies. I’ve run circles around him for years, so I know I’m better off with the rapid-fire approach.

“I didn’t have anyone send anything. You asked me about a dash camera before your trip, and I said it wasn’t me.” He’s careful not to tell Stella anything that could endanger her.

“Yet, these photos of me in my front yard, working out in my garage,bending overin my backyard surface. There are photos of me going for walks with my boyfriend, Tommaso.”

I brace for impact.

“Your what?”

I knew it would hurt Stella to find out this way. But when Tommaso explodes in a moment, it’ll be good she’s there to keep him from ordering an assassin at my door in the next ten minutes.

“My boyfriend. I started seeing someone a couple months ago.”

“Who?”

Tommaso and Stella speak, and I don’t drop a beat.

“Enrique Diaz.”

Silence. Fucking crickets.

For five seconds.

“What the hell are you doing with thatstronzo, Elodie? How could you betray me like that? Are you crazy? Do you have a death wish? Break up. Now!”

“Don’t bellow at me, Tommaso. I don’t work for you anymore. Consider this a courtesy for Stella’s sake, even if I wish I could’ve told you first, Stella.”

“If you’ve been together for a few months, why didn’t you tell me yourself sooner?”

“Business got in the way, Stella. I’m sorry.”

She falls quiet because she knows what that means, and I can practically hear Tommaso snarling.

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