Page 31 of Shotgun Daddy
Faustino set up the lessons with Adler, he believed in his talent. Surely he’d understand him taking this risk, bending his rules just a little for something this big…
“Squirt, I don’t have a choice,” Reece said, his heart racing. “Just this once, I’m going to have to disobey my Daddy,”
Reece sprang out of bed, determination shoving his worry aside. He’d be fast, careful, and definitely no lingering, just in and out.
Reece darted to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face, the shock waking him fully. His reflection stared back—wide eyes brimming with nerves and excitement, his smile wide and full of enthusiasm for the challenge ahead.
With a final glance at Faustino’s note, he shoved it into his pocket, snatched Squirt for a reassuring squeeze, and headed for his bag.
It was time to get prepped.
Trouble or not, Reece wasn’t letting this chance slip away, no matter the cost…
Chapter 14
Faustino
The downtown bar was a gritty hole-in-the-wall, tucked between a pawn shop and a laundromat, its neon sign flickeringRusty Anchorin a dull red glow.
Faustino strode in with Owen at his side, the heavy door creaking shut behind them, muffling the late afternoon bustle of the street.
The air inside was thick with the stale scent of beer, cigarette smoke, and the faint tang of sweat—a working man’s joint, all scuffed wood floors and chipped tables. A jukebox in the corner churned out a scratchy blues tune, the wail of a guitar weaving through the low murmur of voices.
Dim lights hung from the ceiling, casting long shadows across the handful of patrons hunched over their drinks, their eyes flicking up briefly before darting away. This wasn’t a place for strangers or tourists, that was for sure – and Faustino and Owen certainly didn’t fit either of those descriptions.
Matteo and Michael were already there, seated at a round table in the back corner, flanked by Steel, their trusted ally, and acouple of loyal bosses, Vinnie and Marco, whose grizzled faces bore the scars of many years in the game.
Also in attendance were several prominent street soldiers, the kinds of men who had small, loyal troops who would move on their command when the moment was right and the orders given.
Faustino’s gaze swept the room, noting the missing faces… Sal, Tony, a few others who’d been tight with the old regime. Their absence was glaring and undeniable, a rift in the Fendi family laid bare.
Faustino slid into a chair, Owen settling beside him, the leather of his jacket creaking as he leaned back, eyes sharp and watchful.
“Well, well, well…” Faustino said.
“Indeed,” Michael replied, sipping on his espresso.
Matteo’s dark eyes met Faustino’s.
“We always knew this would happen,” Matteo said, his voice low, steady, cutting through the blues like a knife. “A coup shakes things up, leaves cracks. But it’s come sooner than we figured. And it’s very, very real.”
Faustino nodded, his jaw tight.
Faustino had seen all this before over the years… every power grab left a wake of instability, a window for the disgruntled to fester and plot.
“After we took over, it was only a matter of time,” Faustino said, his voice a rough growl. “Loyalty’s thin when the old guard losestheir throne. Needs to be nipped in the bud before it turns into a full civil war.”
“Our enemies are watching,” Michael added, leaning forward, his fingers tapping on his glass. “The Viccis, the West Coast crews… they’re all waiting to see if we hold or crumble. If this splinter group gets traction, we’re fucked.”
Steel grunted in agreement.
“Word’s out on the streets,” Steel said. “Some of the old-timers are pissed you three took the reins. They’ve been meeting, quiet-like. I got a tip about a house they’re using, out in the suburbs.”
Faustino’s fists clenched on the table, the wood cool under his knuckles.
A splinter group wasn’t just a nuisance, it was a virus, one that could prove deadly if it went untreated.
“Then we hit them hard,” Faustino said, his tone final, sounding like a leader. “No waiting, no pussyfooting around. Loyalty or death.”
