“Lix…”
“So she’s just pussy?” He sets down his coffee and brings the pot back around, hugging it to his chest with one arm while he uses the other to grab the plant from my hands and jam it into the dirt. “She’s pretty pussy, I’ll give her that. But since it’s not serious, I’ll let Stovic know. He can take her for a spin next week. No reason not to share her around, right? Michaels can go after. I’m not about sharing women with you anymore, since I found my family in Christabelle. But if she never existed, then it would totally be a possibility. You and I… we had good times, right? We knew how to pick them. If Christabelle didn’t have my heart, I bet I could’ve found time in my schedule for Ms. Ha?—”
I snatch the blade from my pocket, my hand moving even without my conscious thoughts giving permission to do so. Flicking it open, I set the tip at my brother’s jugular, and sneer when he only grins.
“Put the plant down, Lix. And back the fuck up out of my space.”
He snickers, completely unfazed by how close he is to death.
“I expect to meet her soon.” He sets the now-full pot on my steel table and gives it a little pat. “I want to know her, so bring her to the house before I let myself into her apartment and scare the poor woman half to death.”
He makes his way to the door, but stops before opening it. “Oh, and we have a meeting in an hour. Go shower off your night of fucking, and get presentable. We have a mess to clean up.”
15
MICAH
THE BIG MAC
“Mr. Cordoza.” Felix walks into Estefan Cordoza’s office just two steps ahead of me, friendly and smiling and far louder than I’d ever choose to be—especially as a dozen heavily armed men watch our arrival. “As always,” Lix booms, “it’s a pleasure to see you.”
“And a pleasure to know you.”
Estefan Cordoza is the boss of all bosses and not only in New York. He essentially runs the criminal underworld of the entire country. No port is accessed in the continental U.S. without Cordoza knowing about it. Nothing comes in without his approval, and nothing goes out unless he’s ordered it so.
Although Archer is both a cop and a Malone, it’s Cordoza who commands his own fleet of badges.
Archer doesn’t do shit for anyone unless it suits him.
Cordoza is friends with the most powerful people in this country, and though his title might suggest violence, he manages with respect. Fairness. Gentleness. He long ago proved that he could come at a man with an axe and deal with business quickly and viciously. But he has a reputation of not using force when force isn’t necessary.
He’d rather deal in suits and handshakes.
When he waves his fat hand, thick fingers wrapped in jewels toward his visitor’s chair, Lix sits, a wide smile stretched across his lips. “Thank you, Mr. Cordoza. We won’t take up much of your time.”
“Micah…” Cordoza gestures next for me to sit. “Please.” Then he leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers. “Tell me what the fuck is happening with Joseph Wilkes.”
“Straight to business,” Lix exhales. “Alright.” Lifting his right ankle, he sets it on his left knee and nods. “Our research, so far, has Wilkes arriving from the UK and hoping to make a power play on New York. He sees dollar signs and instability after the past year, where heads of tables have changed. He’s hoping to capitalize on what he considers volatility and take over.”
“He thinks he can just…” Cordoza snaps his fingers together. “Walk in and declare the city his?”
“I think he’s stupid enough to try. He’s proven to have a lack of intellect with the moves he’s made so far. Shooting people in the street was the first thing he did once he arrived. I’d say that about sets precedence for what we can expect going forward.”
“His MO seems to be guns,” I volunteer, not as loud as Lix. My tone, not as commanding. “He appears to be trading in them. And they surround every incident reported so far. Men he’s connected with hit a club early this morning: drive-by shooting.”
“My information placed you inside that club.” Cordoza’s eyes slide across to mine. His face and body have aged. Lines entrench on his skin, and if a man was to look close enough for long enough, he would notice the slight tremor in Cordoza’s hands. But his eyes… they’re as youthful today as they’ve ever been. His mind, as sharp as ever. “I have my ear to the ground, Micah, always. Reports came back to me that had you,” then he looks at Felix, “and you, inside that club when Wilkes shot it up. Yet,” he extends his hands our way, “you’re here in my office, safe and sound.”
“We had a meeting scheduled,” I offer, drawing the man’s shrewd eyes back my way. “But something came up that kept us away.”
Felix’s lips curl on my left, his smugness just forceful enough to make me want to slam his face to Cordoza’s desk.
“We never made it, obviously,” I grit out. “But we didn’t call ahead and cancel. So if a man wanted to hit us and happened to be following the most current information available, then it makes sense he figured we were there.”
“An attempt has been made on your lives.” Cordoza’s jaw clenches. It’s the only sign alluding to his rage. Call me crazy, but I get the feeling that the old man actually cares that Lix lives. “Three others died as collateral. And Wilkes’ finger was on the trigger.”
“Seems that way.” Lix bounces his foot as restless energy pulses through his blood. “Wilkes decided he’ll take the city with brute force over finesse.”
“Which is not how we run New York.” Cordoza looks to me. “Why weren’t you at the club?”