Page 21 of Mafia Kingdom

I stare at him, the weight of his suspicion heavy in the air. Could Lucas really be capable of such betrayal? The thought is almost too much to bear.

"Have you questioned him on where he was that night? Does he have an alibi?"

My father sits at the head of the long, oak table, steeples his fingers, and takes a deep breath. "That’s what today is about, Marco. To figure out where everyone was that night."

"I still don’t think it’s possible."

The door opens, and my father’s right-hand man doesn’t enter until he gets a nod of approval from my father. Lucas files in with two more of our men: Gerald, who’s nearly seven feet tall and as wide as a football field. He grunts, running his hands along his goatee before he sits. The last man is close to my father’s age, but that doesn’t take away how deadly he is. The scars across his face are sagging and look brutal with age. And Michael, as he passes me, squeezes my shoulder. He always held a fondness for me, and it’s clear he holds none for Lucas as he takes his seat next to Gerald. The final person to arrive is Damien, our brother. I don’t see James, and I glance at Father, but he watches Damien sit.

I look around the room at the familiar faces of family and allies.

“We've gathered here to discuss the recent shooting of Danny.” The way my father says it, you’d think Danny wasn’t his son. The air is thick with tension and the smell of expensive cologne. I want to ask where James is, but my father continues speaking.

“It was an inside job.” My father doesn’t beat around the bush, and no one responds. We are all on trial.

“We have hundreds of men,” Gerald speaks up, his voice rough like a man who’s smoked a hundred cigarettes.

My father nods, his gaze dancing across all of us. “I don’t think it goes that far down the chain of command. I think this was someone with the authority to have intel on us.”

“That narrows it down…” Lucas snorts. “To what, about seventy men?”

My father smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve cut a lot of foot soldiers since you've been gone. So, it’s twenty-six men.”

Lucas clears his throat. "Well, while you were cutting me, I was growing our territory,” Lucas says, but he’s only speaking to our father. This is the first time I have heard of this. "During my recent visit, I secured a small portion of the North."

The room falls silent, and I feel my stomach drop. The North? We’ve never dealt with them before and know not to, as that is Shay O’Reagan’s territory. A man you don’t cross. We still pay dues to the other O’Reagans who had ruled this area but have since left and now do most of their business in London. My father’s face turns a dangerous shade of red. "You did what?" he bellows, slamming his fist on the table. "You can't extend our territory without my permission! We don’t deal with the North!"

Lucas remains unfazed, meeting our father's furious gaze with defiance. "It’s already done, Father. Two men will be joining our group."

The tension in the room spikes, and I can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes shifting between Lucas and our father. This could end very badly. I glance at Gerald, whose expression remains unreadable, but I know he’s thinking the same thing I am – this move by Lucas could either strengthen our family or bring about its downfall.

“Who are these two men?” my father asks.

Lucas sits back in his chair like he has won the war. He’s not even started on the battlefield yet; he should know that. “I've vetted them.”

My father gives a cold stare toward Lucas. “Well, then they must be great.”

Lucas's gaze tightens, but my father takes a deep breath, visibly working to calm himself down. "We’ll discuss this further, Lucas, alone," he says, his tone icy. I glance at Lucas, who just nods. What if Father is right? What if Lucas was behind Danny’s shooting? The thought sends a chill down my spine.

Father stands and looks at me and Lucas, his eyes sharp. "You two will investigate the shooting personally. Everything else is secondary right now. Gerald will assist you." His voice leaves no room for argument. The mention of Gerald causes a ripple of tension in the room. Gerald is my father's right-hand man, trusted by him above all others.

“Let’s get to work.” I’m glad to get out of the suffocating room.

In the hallway, Father hands me a list. "Here’s a lead from an informant. The shooter knew where Danny and you would be, Marco. This is a list of everyone who was in the loop. Use whatever force necessary to get to the truth."

I tighten my fingers around the list and nod. Gerald stands by, silent but watchful. The air is heavy with unspoken words. I want to ask him about the guns about the charity event. Will itstill go ahead? But all of this seems like it doesn’t have a place right here and now.

"Shaking down our own people is a terrible move," Gerald warns.

Father smiles a cold, calculating smile. "If they have nothing to hide, they will cooperate."

Gerald is right; this could backfire badly, but Father seems to have made up his mind. As we head out, Lucas immediately turns to Gerald. "Where were you the night of the shooting?" His voice is sharp, accusatory.

Father interrupts before Gerald can respond. "I can vouch for Gerald. He was out of the country at the time."

I see Lucas's eyes narrow. He doesn’t believe him—neither do I. It’s clear to us that Father is lying, but why? What is he hiding?

As Gerald and Lucas walk outside, Father stops me by placing his hand gently on my arm."There’s something bigger at play here, and we need to find out what. Keep an eye on Lucas. We can’t trust him or anyone now."

---