Page 51 of Triplets for the Russian Boss

The trigger I pulled at the Diamond Score triggered more than just a bullet to Jerry’s chest. If I had known what kind of shit he was involved with, I would’ve never even stepped foot in that club. I’ve knocked over the first man, and the rest followed like dominos.

“I was not aware of the weapons; I can promise you that. Jerry was killed when he pulled a knife on me after a risky gamble. He lost, and I had to calm him down with a bullet to the chest. Standard procedure.”

Diavolo rubs the chin of his mirror-finish mask. “Are you suggesting you just happened to kill our manufacturer, and make off with our weapons?”

“Yes,” I answer bluntly. “Do you want them back, or what? I have them just downstairs.”

“You’re lucky they haven’t blow up your office, and everyone in it. Of course, we want them back. You stole them, and we will kill you for that.”

I roll my eyes. “Look, Diavolo, I’ve already said you’ll get them back. The 37th Street Bratva were the ones pissed at us for killing Jerry. We didn’t know you guys were involved. We’re not looking to start a three-way war.”

“Neither are we,” he replies, rubbing his chin again. “Maybe we can come to a peaceful agreement.”

I chuckle. “That was the idea to begin with.”

I raise my glass, taking a sip to cool my tongue. As short as this conversation has been, we’ve been on the brink of war several times. If Diavolo were to behave emotionally, the call would already be over, and he’d be sending more of his troops to gun down our warehouses and attempt to breach the headquarters.

Thankfully, I know Diavolo to be reasonable, even if he is turning strippers into confetti.

“Let’s say this,” Diavolo says after a moment of thought. “You leave the weapons at the warehouse where the shooting happened, and we don’t blow your brains out in your sleep.”

“Fair deal,” I reply, wanting nothing to do with the weird shit Jerry has been working on. “I just wanted to keep that kind of firepower out of the hands of the 37th Street Bratva.”

“A primitive bunch,” he agrees.

“So, we’re all good, then. No need to bring out the big guns and nuke you out of existence,” I say, injecting some humor where it really isn’t appropriate.

To my surprise, Diavolo chuckles. “Deliver the weapons, and we won’t have any issues. I like your Family. Keep in touch.”

The call ends, and I breathe a sigh of relief. For a moment, I thought I was going to dig myself into further trouble, but as it turns out, I’m well on my way to redemption. The only person I have to deal with now is Bonnie, and things are going smoothly so far.

I just have to be careful, after the birth control incident. You never know when a woman is going to trick you into knocking her up, but I respect that Bonnie warned me beforehand. I could’ve had a lot more responsibility on my hands than I expected when I took her in.

I lean back in my chair, puffing on my cigar as I think about the way I’m going to enjoy Bonnie tonight. This was never about the massages, but I believe she understands that now. I’m going to have her every way possible, before she goes, and by the end of it, she’ll be begging to stay.

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