Page 42 of Hostile Rival
“Mat!” André comes straight for me, throws an arm around my neck, and playfully wrestles with me.
We mess around for a few seconds like we always do, laughing and sparring. I fucking love this guy.
“So, you got the message?” He chuckles, keeping his tattooed arm around my neck as he guides me deeper inside, his bare feetnot making a sound. “Mama’s golden boy has to behave himself tonight.”
I roll my eyes, not rising to his taunts. While my brothers had learned about cartel warfare and the family business from our father, Mama taught me all there was to know about our Irish mafia roots. She’s my rock.
We pass numerous bone-white statues of Italian women, all partially dressed in togas.
“You going to get yourself immortalized in plaster too, Dré? A replica version of the mighty Dré Souza with his tiny cock hanging out and a crown on his big head would work well in this space.”
André laughs and squeezes my neck harder. “How about I send you a life-sized version of me for your next birthday?”
“Wow, that would make my life complete.” I elbow his ribs and laugh when he ruffles my hair. “When is Mama getting here?”
Our mother is en route to Sicily. That’s all I know. The message Giovanni had sent earlier was cryptic.
“Her jet touches down this afternoon.” He confirms. “Giovanni isn’t happy about you stepping outside of The Covenant for the night, but he understands you have to play your part.”
The thing is, Mama thinks I’m in Sicily spending time with André and Sinéad. For now, it’s better she doesn’t find out how her youngest, favorite son had become a hitman. The very thing she had steered me away from. She’d blow a fuse.
“Is there a reason for her visit?” I ask.
André ushers me through a sitting room bigger than a basketball court, stopping at an obsidian marble bar flecked with gold. He moves behind it and uncaps two bottles of beer, handing me one.
“We’ve been invited to a black-tie event.”
“By who?”
“The House of Di Rossi. They’re a powerful and respected Italian family. It’s good for business to be seen rubbing shoulders with them.”
I pull out a bar stool and sit. “I’m not in the mood to be social tonight.”
André frowns. “You’re joking, right? I thought you’d be itching to party with me.” He takes a slow gulp of his beer, his eyes narrowed. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
I shrug, not wanting to offload my Dani turmoil. It’s not that I don’t trust him. I’d rather not explain how angry I am that she’s partnered up with Oistin or that I can’t get her out of my head.
“I’m getting used to becoming the guy behind the good looks.” I admit. “Wearing a mask is liberating, Dré. I can do whatever the hell I want, and no one knows I’m a Souza.”
“Is that a good thing?” André folds his arms. “Our family name spreads fear throughout cities––hiding your identity makes you––no one. The Souza reputation is the one good thing Papá gave us.”
“That’s theonlything he gave me, Dré,” I snap sharply. “Papá gave you guys everything. Maybe I don’t want to be part of his legacy. The man was a fucking monster. He did bad shit to innocent people.”
André laughs from the back of his throat. “Go fuck yourself, Mat. You’re a Souza sicario who executes people. That’s bad shit.”
“There’s a big difference between killing traitors and conspirators to kidnapping women and packing them out with cocaine as drug mules.”
André’s expression darkens. He’s a ruthless son of a bitch, but in his heart, he’s not evil. Not like Papá was.
“Tommy put an end to all of that. He took it to the next level instead. These days, we’re professional drug smugglers. Not amateurs. Unless you know something, I don’t?”
“I’m just reminding you that we’re associated with everything Papá did. And that’s the sort of shit I don’t want to be known for.”
“Whatever happened in the past was all Papá and Uncle Sean. And they’re both dead now. We inherited Papá’s reputation by default. Even before you joined The Covenant, when you wore suits and learned the law, you were part of the Souza legacy, like the rest of us. We’re in this together, and you can’t tell me you don't get a boner from the power we have.”
I take a sip of beer, thinking. “All I’m saying is that sometimes it feels good to be faceless.”
“I love your face,cabron.” André winks, lights up a blunt, and holds it out for me. “You have the night off. Let’s show the Di Rossi’s how the Souzas really party.”
