Page 82 of Diamond In The Rough

My stomach drops instantly as Tiia’s face slams to the forefront of my consciousness.

Say her name in this room, and she becomes a part of a world she wants nothing to do with. But refuse to answer Cordoza in his own office, and Wilkes will be the least of our worries.

“Uh…”

“He had a date,” Lix smirks. “Dinner and Netflix. I guess our meeting slipped his mind.”

Slowly, I turn my head and meet my brother’s smiling gaze with my own.

Minus the smile.

“Guess that makes her your guardian angel,” Cordoza inserts, sitting forward at his desk and setting his elbows on the rich mahogany.

The movement makes me wonder about the desk’s history. Where did it come from? Who owned it before him? Did it sail across the ocean too and become a pirate’s treasure?

“The romantic in me considers this all very… serendipitous.” He smiles. “Perhaps it is your turn, Micah.”

“My turn?” I drag my eyes back to the man who could have us all decimated in seconds. “My turn for what?”

“Love. Archer has found his in Doctor Mayet, and Felix…” He quickly glances at my brother and sniggers. “Surprised us both. But Ms. Cannon is a highly intelligent, wildly successful journalist with a brain in her head. So if she says it’s love, then I’m inclined to believe her.” He brings his focus back to me. “Now that your father is dead, it’s been a pleasure for me to watch his sons fall.”

“A statement that could be construed as a threat. And especially not a topic I wish to broach when we’re discussing business.” I dip my chin. “Respectfully, sir.”

“Apples and oranges.” He waggles his finger at me and Lix. “Apples and oranges. But reasonable. I won’t bring it up again. A guardian angel, after all, doesn’t require public praise.” Sitting back, he switches from jovial to business in the blink of an eye. “What do you propose to do about your threat?”

Felix turns deadly serious. “We could leave it alone. A gnat is a gnat, after all, and hardly something to sink my resources into.”

“This gnat controls countless automatic weapons,” I argue. “They shot up a club they expected us to be in. Seems to be an immediate issue that should be dealt with.”

“But carefully,” Cordoza inserts. “Quietly. My sources say the Feds are watching, too. The movement in New York this past year put a lot of eyes on our backs. Mancino’s assassination while in FBI custody is where it began. Pastore is dead. Your father is dead. Times are changing, and everything we once knew is in flux. If Wilkes isn’t lying in wait, the Feds are.”

“So we’ve got to watch both ends.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Something will blow soon. The lids have been on too tight for too long.”

“I’m insulated.” Cordoza speaks calmly. Confidently. “No one is touching me. And they’re sure as hell not shooting up a building I’m supposed to be in. This is about you two.” His eyes flash when I drop my hand. “This is a man who wants to pluck the last surviving family besides my own out of this city.”

“If we fall,” Felix grits out, “you’re next, Boss. And by that point, the country will be at war.”

“So I suppose it would be best if you remain alive and well.” He looks over our shoulders to one of his men. “I want you to assign ten of ours to support the Malone estate?—”

“Wait,” I shove forward in my chair and glance over my shoulder at the soldier Cordoza speaks to. “What?”

“Support,” he repeats. “Not an invasion. Your home must remain safe, and your business, protected. I’ll be damned if our city falls to the fucking British.”

He nods for his man to go round up a team of soldiers to surround our home. “I want this dealt with quietly, gentlemen. Quickly.”

Then he spares a sly look for me. “I hope your lady friend continues to be your guardian angel. Good talismans are hard to find in a city filled with mayhem. Go.” He waves us off, already exhausted with Wilkes and his bullshit. “Watch every angle, Malone. If Wilkes doesn’t get you, the Feds will surely try.”

“Fuck me.” Felix drops into our car and splays his legs wide, the back of his head hitting the headrest with a muffled thud.

When I slide in too, he looks across and groans. “That was a clusterfuck.”

“I didn’t think it was so bad.” I close my door and settle back when our driver starts the car. “Cordoza wants you alive as much as I do.”

“You say it wasn’t so bad because we only know our father’s way of handling business. He got pissed, so he got loud. Cordoza isn’t like that. He doesn’t shout or shoot with emotion. But he was angry all the same. Wilkes is becoming a really annoying fucking problem.”

“So maybe we go to him.”

I stretch my leg when my phone vibrates. Dipping my hand in to my pocket to free the device, I pull it out again, but I don’t check the screen. My current conversation is more pressing than whatever waits for me there.

---