Page 95 of Inferno

“And this is why we told you a time ten minutes earlier than Enzo was actually arriving,” he tells Conan, who smirks in response.

He’s so invested in reviving his cage fighting career, we hardly see him. He lives and breathes the cage.

But the Decadence Games bring him out to play.

He kicks his sneakers on the gravel and looks back at the front doors to the factory.

“What is this, show and fucking tell? He knows how we run our games. What makes this year different that he needs a damn tour?” Finn snaps.

I lift my shoulders in a nonchalant gesture. “We will never understand how Enzo’s brain works.”

Clearly annoyed, Finn lets out a derisive scoff beside me, making me turn to him.

“This isn’t very ‘silent partner’ of him. The games were our idea. We’ve run two; I’ve done what I had to do after. Con is right. Why is he suddenly so interested in it now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s linked to the Russian family he invited? We know the game has changed in Russia recently. Maybe Mikhail is behind it?”

Finn bites his lip, deep in thought.

“With Ivan dead, that makes sense. Although, I’d have thought Mikhail would want to be as far away from Russia as possible after killing his own father.”

Pain twists in my chest thinking about our own father’s sacrifice. But his was different. Ivan tried to kill his own family first. He deserved it.

We’ve met Mikhail occasionally. We keep our alliance with him and his family in Vegas tight, and also with Frankie Falcone in New York. Seeing as we facilitate bringing in most of their arms and drugs now, they have time for us.

Silence falls as the gates to Decadence open, and we all crane our necks to see the sleek, black Bentley glide in, its tires humming on the asphalt.

“Here comes our King,” Conan whispers, full of sarcasm.

“He made us who we are today. This fucking empire was built with his help. Now play nice,” I hiss at Con.

As the Bentley smoothly comes to a stop, the quiet hum of the engine fades as his driver opens the door, and I head over.

“Enzo. Welcome back to Decadence.” I extend my hand, and he shakes it firmly.

“Good to be back.”

He nods curtly to my brothers, who stand silently behind me, their faces grim.

“The full family tour today, I see,” Enzo says, straightening his navy tie.

“Yes. Now, you want to see this year’s games?” I smirk.

“I do. Then I have some things to discuss with you.”

The sound of his fingers dragging across his five o’clock shadow accompanies my nod.

“Of course. Follow me.”

I swipe my card to the main doors of the factory. As we walk in, the sweet smell of chocolate hits you.

“Any new flavors?” Enzo asks beside me.

“AK-47 with a hint of honeycomb.”

He chuckles as we pass the loud machinery. Our workers are part of the mafia families or directly under me.

Sworn to secrecy.

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