Page 47 of Abel

Abel

“Gentlemen, I want to thank you all for meeting us here today. I do believe this partnership will be beneficial to everyone involved.” A tall man, dressed from head to toe in all black. Not an inch of color on his expensive clothes or shoes. His cream colored skin, tattooed hands and neck suggests he’s a formal thug. That thick Italian accent and the way he moves says otherwise. His slicked back hair glistens under the light, with not one single strand out of place as he moves around the room, giving his little speech. “My name is Santiago Marchetti, and I run things on the Upper East Side, but with this partnership, so will you and your crew, Abel.” He smiles in my direction.

I glance at Tark and notice the semi smile on his face. While this isn’t something we wanted to happen, here’s to looking on the brightside.

We all are.

“We have no doubt in our minds things will work out for the best.” I answer.

“I must warn you, we are not the only ones out there that want to get our hands on the enterprise you and your crew have cooked up.” Santiago laughs. “I couldn’t resist.”

Joining in his laughter, I agree, “No, I get it.” I’m not trying to get on his bad side, but if he does anything to fuck up what we have, I won’t hesitate to take him out.

No matter what his rank may be.

“What do you guys do when you aren’t running your little drug deals?” A guy with blond hair asks.

“Bassiano!Attento a come ti comporti.” Mind your manners, Santiago growls. “This isn’t a social call. We are here for business, and what they do outside of that is their own.”

“Sorry, sir.” Bassiano looks to be about twenty years old. A kid, which means he doesn’t know any better, but Santiago is correct… What we do is our own business. “Won’t happen again.”

Ignoring him, Santiago walks toward me, placing his hand on my shoulder “Let’s have a seat and talk numbers and all that good stuff. You know, work out the kinks.” Moving to a table set up in the center of the room, we get down to business.

“Before we start, I need to be honest with you all.” Santiago begins.Mia figlia, my daughter got mixed up with a guy. Fucking pig! I couldn’t stand the littlebastardoand for good reason. He gave her a taste of drugs, and she was immediately hooked. Shit that was mixed in a crack house with whatever they could find.” He says, rising from his chair, pacing the floor. “I found her, laid out in one of his crack houses, in a pool of her own fucking vomit… Dead. And that no good, little punk was passed out in a corner while my baby girl was dying.” He sighs, but before long, he starts cackling like a hen. “Needless to say, I beat him to a pulp. As he clung to the last of his pathetic little life, I fed him to Yogi.”

“Who’s Yogi?” I ask, a little curious, but not wanting to know the answer.

“My pet black bear, of course.” Santiago laughs. “My daughter's death took a toll on me, and I-I knew I had to find a way to get that shit off the streets. I had connections, I had pull, but I didn’t have what it took to make a product that wouldn’t kill off ourkids.” He pauses. Fuck, I can’t imagine losing my kid, even though I don’t have any. “I searched for the ones that perfected what people on the streets called fairy dust because of how high you get without actually overdosing. After searching for so long, I finally found you."

“That you did.” I answer, a little put off behind his story. I’m not sure if I believe it. He sounds and looks very sincere, talking about his daughter and how he searched for so long to find us, but how can I know if that’s the truth? For now, I’ll play his game. “I’m extremely sorry to hear about your daughter, but it brings me great joy to know that her boyfriend was dealt with in a more than just way in the eyes of the mafia.”

“Thank you, now, it’s time for business.” Santiago says, confirming what I thought was true.

He’s a member of the mafia.

So, for the next couple of hours, we get into the business side of things and hash out every little detail before I sign my name on the dotted line.

“It will be a pleasure doing business with The Anarchy Saints. The Snakes will be at your beck and call. You know how to reach me.” He says, nodding his head. “In the meantime, bodyguards will be dispersed to each of your homes as well as your little clubhouse,” How does he know about that? “The dogs are almost ready. I have thirty that will need good homes, but they will still need to be trained by each of their new owners. They are killers by nature, but it’s up to each of their new owners to trainthem how they see fit. Good day to you all.” He says, rising and breezing past me and Tark, exiting the room.

“That went well,” I mention, heading to the window to watch them go. “but I still don’t trust the guy.” I mumble.

“Good… Don’t. I believe his story about his daughter, and I hate to hear that, but there’s gotta be an ulterior motive as to why he sought us out.” Tark says, coming to stand beside me as we watch Santiago and his man get in their vehicle and drive away. “I’m surprised he agreed to your terms.”

“I’m not. I didn’t put anything in there that he wouldn’t ask us for if the tables were turned.” I answer, turning away from the window. “I want to know everything there is about this guy and his men. I don’t know how you’ll get the info, but get it.” I demand. He’s not tech savvy, but he knows someone who is.

“Say less.” Tark pulls out his phone, furiously tapping away at the keys. “I’ll see you later, but I’ll call when I find something.”

“Sounds good.” I say, hopping on my bike and riding home.

Chapter Eighteen

Ivy

Late March 2023

Wringing my hands in my lap seems like the right thing to do as I sit here and wait for Camden and Travis to walk through those doors. It’s been a week since the doctor told me I was… Pregnant. I still can’t wrap my head around it.

That explains the weight gain.

---