Page 105 of The Lost Kings
“How could they lead in different locations if they’re always with Adrian in Italy?”
“You were only visiting every few months…you’re a very long game to them, Presley, make no mistake. The goal will always be the eradication of your family.”
No. That just…that couldn’t be true. I knew it down to my bones, it wasn’t. Adrian had fallen for me after seeing me at that ball and being curious about me.
He’d never explained how he knew it was me.
“You’re still finding ways to defend him, aren’t you?”
I blinked, tugging at the grass beside the blanket before looking back over at Gio. “I asked if he had any siblings and he said no…I just think there might be a mistake.”
The scoff from Gio had my eyes narrowing. “You know that’s exactly what Kingston said you’d say.”
“Since when are you guys talking shit about me behind my back?”
Gio frowned before getting to his feet. “We’ve never once talked shit about you, Pres. But we do dream, and when we know something that’s in the way of ours, we’ll discuss it. Adrian is a problem and you’re not willing to see it.”
Without another word he turned around, head shaking, and left me in the field that we used to lay in to stare up at a sky that we once said we’d always share. In the wake of his absence, I realized he still hadn’t fully explained what he and Kingston had been up to while they were gone, and now with the information Gio shared, it had me more curious than ever.
Chapter 40
Gio
THREE MONTHS AGO
We had slowly regained a massive amount of fortune my father’s gang once had, but there were still holes that needed to be filled and loose ends that needed finding. This wasn’t about force so much as it was power. If we could create something as powerful as what the Adesso family had, then we could protect Presley from him. Because whatever game she was playing, she’d been going to Italy more and more frequently, and while my gut told me she was aware of the danger, it still made me nervous to watch.
Henry had found yet another loose end that El Peligro had neglected for years and called us in to ask how we wanted to proceed.
He stood over the map in his usual position, this time a red marker in his hand as he drew a line through Manhattan. “For ten years a motorcycle club in New York has been using this stretch of land to make runs and earn money.”
“And?” I asked, ignoring the looks from people around the room. They’d likely heard the stories of my grandfather and father. Fromthe way they were sizing us up, it seemed they were curious how we’d run things.
Henry smiled. “And it legally belongs to El Peligro. Your father never cared if they used it because they weren’t running anything illegal that would interfere with his community but if we take it back, we can earn double what they are.”
One of Henry’s men, Santos, tossed a folder in front of us. The manilla folder flipped open, revealing images of a dark-haired woman and a kid that looked just like her…in fact, the closer I pulled the image?—
“Who is that?” Kingston asked, touching an image of the woman who looked eerily similar to my father and my grandmother. She had Dad’s eyes, nose and mouth. In the image, she was holding hands with a blond man, wearing a motorcycle club vest that matched the insignia of the ones we just discovered were on our property.
Henry flipped over another photo, this one of a little boy roughly five or six. He was in the woman’s arms, smiling while she laughed. They looked happy, like a family. Kingston glanced at me, and I stared back.
This was one of those moments where the other shoe was about to drop and smack us in the fucking face.
“This is Wren Vasquez,” Henry supplied, while a few of the men at the table whispered in private conversations while glaring at the images. A sudden urge to pick it up and hide it in my jacket surfaced.
“Vasquez…as in…” Kingston voiced, while narrowing his eyes on the picture of the woman he called Wren.
Henry nervously looked at me then the photo. “As in the daughter of Manny Vasquez.”
Our grandfather…which meant...
“Shit,” Kingston whispered, “this is Dad’s sister…”
I locked eyes with him. We had heard of her, but he’d called her Henrietta, and we had never once been told that she’d had a little boy, or that she was dating a member of a motorcycle club.
“It gets worse.” Henry cleared his throat while sliding over amuch clearer image of the man she was with. In this one, he was alone, and his leather cut was easier to read. He was no mere member of that club…he was the president.
“So our aunt is dating the president of the club we’re after…” I summarized, unsure how we were going to handle this.
