Page 33 of Demon's Angel

“Fight or give in will be our only options.” Thunder’s face looks set.

“That’s what he’ll expect. So no sign, not one flicker of our intentions.” I don’t really have to warn them. We all know the score. And we’re used to playing shit close to our chests. There’s no way we’re giving up territory to the Silvestri or allowing them to deal drugs around our businesses.

An hour later, we’re heading out to our bikes. While we all know it’s risky, since there’s no requirement to wear a lid in Colorado most of us ride without helmets, particularly in the warm summer months. I simply wrap my bandana around my forehead to keep the sweat out of my eyes and hair off my face before slipping on my shades.

By the time I’ve completed my meagre preparations, Hell and Thunder are also ready to get moving. The prospect slides open the gate, and then we’re off. Our route will take us in through the city, then out the other side.

I’ve had a lot of experience riding at the front of the pack. As VP, I took lead position if Hell wasn’t with us, but times like today, I have to stop myself standing aside and waiting for him to precede me, only just remembering in time it’s me who’s the prez. I set the pace, not too fast, not too slow, and enjoy the morning sun on my face, the cooling breeze rushing past, and the clear blue sky overhead. At least, for the moment, it’s not going to rain.

None of us have been to the don’s lair before. Oh, we’ve had meets, in their clubs, ours, in neutral territory, but never have we been to the very heart of the crime family. As I ride, I run through what I know of them. Lucio Silvestri has a few years on Hell though they both stepped up to the top spot around the same time. New blood, new deals forged. Since that time, things agreed in an unwritten contract have been abided to by both sides. Of course we know the Silvestri are into some shady shit that we would never touch, hence my concern for what Violet was potentially getting herself into. Drugs we know about, trafficking, too, but as long as they stayed their side of the invisible line, we weren’t going to get up in their business.

Unfortunately, with heroin now flooding our part of town, we need to make a stand. Especially with our plans to take the tattoo parlour upmarket. We get a bad rep? We’d never live it down.

I’m unsurprised when we’re faced with gates that we have to wait to be opened, then the need to ride our bikes up a long driveway. Crime obviously pays a lot more than can be earned by an MC trying to stay the right side of the line. We park, backing in so our rear tires are facing the house wall, as always, prepared for a quick escape should we need it.

My expectations continue to be met when we’re asked to hand over our weapons on entry. You don’t get to last long as a Mafia boss without being cautious. It’s something we would do were we inviting an enemy into our clubhouse. A quick pat-down, then it’s sorted.

Lucio doesn’t leave us hanging around. We’re immediately shown into a pleasant reception room. Whatever he’s into must be lucrative, I muse to myself, looking around. Could be imitation, but I reckon not, and there are some genuine antiques here. Not that I’m any expert.

“Gentlemen.” The man who hasn’t entirely lost his Italian accent steps forward. He glances at Hell, who stands just a little behind me and to my left, then his eyes examine his cut, before settling on mine. “So, are congratulations in order, Demon?”

I grin. “Not sure if it’s congratulations or commiserations right now,” I reply, mimicking his friendly tone. “Time will tell.”

He nods, then turns to Hellfire. “And you, old friend. You are well?”

“Just about managing to keep the shiny side up,” Hell replies. They grasp hands for a moment and exchange respectful nods.

“Retirement agrees with you?”

“Not sure I’d say I’m completely retired, but passing over the gavel, well, that I can recommend.”

Don Lucio looks thoughtful. “Might take a page out of your book one day soon. Perhaps before mycapiget impatient.”

A dutiful laugh comes from behind him where two other men stand waiting. One is Angel, I’m pleased to see. Surreptitiously I inspect him. He’s not much to look at, older than me, balding, slightly overweight, as if he indulges in too much pizza and pasta. Not the type I’d expect Violet to have gone with voluntarily. My fingers curl into my palms as I remind myself I have to keep my hands off him. For now.

The don has moved on and now reaches out his hand to Thunder. “VP,” he nods respectfully.

I’m glad this is one person Thunder doesn’t correct with the word ‘Acting’. We’re here to present strength, after all, and identifying a gap in our ranks would do nothing to serve our purpose.

Lucio stands back and indicates the men behind him. “My underboss and son, Angelino probably needs no introduction. And this is Ferri, one of mycaporegimi.” After we’ve all exchanged chin lifts with his second and captain, he asks, “Can I offer you refreshment?”

“Not for us,” I take the lead. “We’re here on business.”

Lucio shrugs as though in his view mixing in pleasure would be quite acceptable, but he turns and opens a box, taking out a cigar. He offers them around, but only his team take them. It’s enough so the room fills quickly with a sickly-sweet smelling fog.

He draws in smoke, holds it, exhales, then shakes his head. “Friends, you are missing out. This is the best Cuba can offer. But come now, please sit. I was intrigued when you asked for this meeting. You have me at a disadvantage. I have no idea why you requested we sit down together. The Devils andla famigliaSilvestri have always been friends, have we not? So I am more than happy to listen to what you have to say. I doubt this is just a social call.”

Rumours are he rose up from the slums of Naples, in which case, I wonder where his cultured accent comes from. And kudos to him and his forebears from escaping poverty and immigrating to the US. The Silvestri family has certainly done well for themselves over the decades they’ve been here.

Bringing my thoughts back into focus, I take the seat indicated, perching on the edge rather than getting comfortable. “You’re right. It’s not. Something has come to our attention, and I thought perhaps you should know about it.”

“Is that right?” The don frowns. “Do continue.”

I nod, and do so. “Dealing. White shit. In and around our businesses.”

Lucio’s eyes open wide. “You don’t deal in drugs. I know this. Our agreement states we stay out of the areas you operate in.”

“Exactly.” I smile widely, showing all my teeth. “Which is why I thought you’d like to know. Whoever it is, we’ll come down hard on.”