Page 41 of The Silencer

“No, you don’t know. No. Tatum.”

He nods and then holds his hand out toward me for his phone. “Give me my phone back. I promise to behave.”

I slap it into his palm and turn my gaze back toward the front of the SUV.

I know I could send someone else to do this, but I like to stay involved. I like to know exactly what’s going on with the inventory. Especially now with the Fallen Aces really gunning for us. They’ve always been a thorn in my side, but now they’ve taken it personally.

They want to burn me to the ground.

“Almost there, Boss,” Viktor says as he turns down a narrow street.

We bump along, the wheels catching in some potholes as we go. Luca doesn’t seem bothered by it, just eyes his phone once more.

“You know what you’re going to do about Mikhail?” Luca asks suddenly, and I stare out the window at the buildings.

He means Mikhail Ivanov, a powerful Russian mafia boss who runs things on the East Coast. And the one I’m currently considering for Angelo.

For protection, for his safety, if nothing else. Joining our families would be the smart thing to do.

But the thought of it makes my head pound.

My sons are what I cherish over all else.

I don’t make decisions like this lightly, despite what Tatum may think.

“No. I don’t,” I reply.

“Here, Boss,” Viktor says, turning the car off and stepping out. He opens the car door for us, closing it slightly on Luca when he gets out, making him stumble and lose his footing.

“Oh, fuck off, Vik. How old are you? Goddamn,” Luca grumbles, but Viktor ignores him.

And I do too. I’m already sliding out around him and walking up the stairs to the warehouse, Raphael and his men waiting for us near the entrance. They look imposing with their dark clothes and guns slung over their shoulders.

“You made it,” Raphael says, holding the door open for me. He’s a bigger man than me, with a barrel chest and graying hair. He’s been around since before I could even remember. He worked with my father and will be around long after I’m gone, I’m sure. He’s indispensable and loyal as fuck. And he’s currently the one running the cocaine side of things.

It’s not technically associated with my name or my businesses, at least not on paper.

But it’s mine all the same.

“Thank you for accommodating the change of time.”

“Anytime, Boss. That’s what I’m here for. Hey, Luca. Good to see you.” He reaches out and shakes his hand, pumping roughly once before letting go. “Alright. I have the paperwork for you, as requested.” He hands me a stack of papers and then nods to his left, the door swinging shut behind us. “Right this way.”

Raphael leads us down a small hallway, three other men with guns following along beside us. We can never be too careful, and Raphael is slightly paranoid when it comes to his men and their safety.

I flip through the paperwork as we make our way down a corridor and into the main room, my eyes shifting to the assembly lines, people and machines working to package up the cocaine and get it ready for shipment.

Yes. Yes, I know this makes me a bad man.

But I couldn’t give a fuck what people think.

This is how I provide for my family, and I do it as honestly as possible.

My business is high-end stimulants, but most of my money comes from cocaine and the occasional arms shipment. But the designer drugs are the way of the world now that weed is becoming legal.

“We plan on getting this out tonight. The dock workers are ready to help us transport it,” Raphael says.

“Wonderful,” I reply, walking up to a few of the men and women working the lines and shaking their hands. I like to do this, to let them see my face and speak with me. I may be running an illegal operation, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see my employees as people. They have families, lives of their own. I care about them.

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