Page 226 of The Tempted

“Congrats man,” Blackie gritted out.

“Mama Leone is going to be a grandma? Fuck, if I thought she was crazy before, she’s going to be all sorts of bonkers now,” Riggs said, more to himself than the rest of us. He shook his head, rising to his feet, briefly glancing at Anthony. “Congrats on the kid,” he mumbled before heading toward the bar.

I looked after him for a minute, watching as he checked his phone before reaching behind the bar and grabbing a bottle of Patron.

“What’s his deal? He’s acting strange,” I said perceptively.

“Isn’t he always like that?” Anthony asked, looking over his shoulder at Riggs who was taking swigs of the tequila, shouting about a worm or some shit in between gulps.

I shook my head, dismissing any concern over Riggs as Blackie cleared his throat.

“Think we can get back to the task at hand? Some of us have other shit we need to tend to,” Blackie sneered. “You wanted the Bulldog here. He’s here. Now talk.”

Bianci fixed his gaze on Blackie, eyes darkening, a flicker of something he tried to bury in his new-found life reborn. There was no denying Anthony Bianci was once a brutal fuck who wouldn’t think twice about beating the shit out of someone.

“Talk to me, Bianci,” I said, reeling him back in before he knocked Blackie out.

He rolled his neck, sucked in a breath between his teeth before finally pulling his eyes off of my VP and shifting his stare back in my direction.

“Jimmy’s looking for drugs and he’s looking for a large quantity. Remember awhile back you found out he had been visiting someone locked up close to the Canadian border?”

“Yeah, we couldn’t get a name though, wound up being a dead end,” I said, narrowing my eyes as I tried to figure where he was going with this.

“It came to light that the man he was visiting was the man who ordered the hit on Val. The man I was sent to prison to kill,” he revealed. “Don’t know how long they’ve been working together but I wouldn’t put it past Jimmy to have had a hand in the hit on Val. Think about it—Val’s gone, paving the way for Jimmy to become the underboss. All the shit that’s gone on over the last couple of years with Vic; the body being discovered, Rico pulling the wool over Nikki’s eyes, Victor going down and Jimmy finally taking the throne—it all makes sense. This beef with the guy up near Canada started because Vic and Val shut down his operation when he pushed drugs through Vic’s territory,” Anthony continued.

“What kind of drugs?” Blackie questioned.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.

Poor Bastard.

Still haunted by that shit.

“Heroine,” Anthony declared, eyes moving back and forth between me and Blackie.

Blackie’s hands clenched around his bottle at the word. Heroine robbed him of his wife, his future and his fucking conscience. To say it was a sore subject wouldn’t be right, it was a hard fucking limit.

“Let me see if I follow so far. Jimmy was allegedly backstabbing Victor all these years, working him into the cell he’s rotting away in now. He killed Vic’s best friend and underboss, all because he was working with some other gangbanger to gain control over New York?”

“For the most part, and now with Victor out of the way and Jimmy in control, they are looking to score some heavy drugs,” he affirmed.

“This guy near Canada, he got a name?” I asked, curiously.

“Gregorio,” he said.

“So, Jimmy fucked Victor, that’s not our business. You going to tell us something beneficial?” Blackie questioned.

Bianci stared at me, gauging my reaction.

“I think I just did,” he muttered. “Fuck, Vic was right,” he hissed, roughly threading his fingers through his hair.

“Clue me in, brother,” Blackie demanded, leaning into me.

“Gregorio,” I repeated the name.

I ignored Blackie’s hardened glare that was laced with confusion and tried to piece things together.

“Remember when Danny paid me a visit to Ryker’s?” I asked, glancing at Blackie and watched as he nodded in response before I continued. “Came to tell me he was writing me off and all that shit, that he was up for a promotion in the bureau. They were going to make him a director or whatever the fuck it’s called over RICO cases,” I added, swiping my hand over my face. “Said he couldn’t be associated with me anymore and had changed his name,” I stared at the ink that marked my forearm, Parrish, in big block letters, and closed my eyes. “Took our mother’s maiden name, Gregorio.”

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