Page 63 of Arranged

A few men laughed. Drago turned red, huffing and puffing, but doing the right thing in giving me a nod of respect. He and I would no doubt have words later.

That was fine with me.

“Are there any questions?” I asked, taking another few seconds to eyeball everyone.

“Yeah, how is the pussy?”

There were a few things from day one I’d learned never to mention to anyone and that included mention of the Don’s family. Not in a good or bad way.

The offending soldier was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as if he didn’t give a shit about a thing I had to say.

My reaction was instantaneous and without a hint of remorse. I grabbed the handle of my knife, pitching it toward the man. The shock of my throw caught him before the pain rushed to his system.

I’d pinned him to the wall by the blade driven into his shoulder.

The entire group of men backed away as if the soldier was on fire. I didn’t need to look them directly in the eyes to know they were impressed and momentarily terrified.

As the soldier shrieked, Gio sighed from beside me. I headed toward the injured soldier, standing only a few feet away. “There is something that’s vital within this newly combined regime.” I kept my voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “That’s called respect. I will not tolerate any man disrespecting anyone else. Is that clear?”

The crowd stayed quiet. I kept my stare on the injured man, smiling slightly from the fear in his eyes.

“I said. Is. That. Clear?”

“Yes, boss. Yes, sir. Yes. Of course.”

The answers were different, but all the same. It would be some time before one of them crossed me again.

But they would.

And I’d deal with it.

I took a deep breath, narrowed my eyes, and yanked out the knife. The soldier issued a single cut-off whimper before grabbing his shoulder and moving as far away from me as possible.

“Dismissed.”

The crowd dispersed, several heading toward the whiteboard.

I wiped the knife on my trousers and noticed Drago was walking in my direction. He sized me up before sneering.

“I don’t like you, Banderas. You’re not a straight shooter. There’s something wrong with you and I will find out what that is. When I do, I’m going to gut you like a pig.”

I moved within two inches of his face. “You do that, my friend. Just keep in mind, many have underestimated me. That was the last thing they accomplished before their one-way ticket straight to hell.”

* * *

“Carmella and her son are safe?” Don Santorelli asked.

“Yes, they’re safe. Carmella isn’t happy being locked away as you might imagine.”

He chuckled. “Independent women do not like being told what to do.”

“Especially this one.” After learning of the fake couple’s murder, my bride had become withdrawn, barely tolerating me touching her. I could understand her reservations. Coming to terms with the world you’d attempted to leave was difficult.

That much at least I comprehended.

“I’m just getting used to your style of management.” Don Santorelli’s voice held a dark quality not unlike it did when handling an issue. “You’re tough, even more so than I was at your age.”

I’d been summoned to his office after word of how I’d handled the combined meeting had surfaced. My plans for Derek would need to wait.

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