I stop the drill and shoot a look at Luciano. “You really sat here for four hours with him and got nothing?” I scoff.
“Torture isn’t usually my game homie,” he shrugs. “Blood makes me squeamish and shit.”
It makes sense, Luciano is a getaway driver and an enforcer but it’s rare he ever has to go very far when it comes to torture.
“I want to know what business got you caught up with Conejo, or this drill goes into your eye and you’ll have a nasty infection to deal with.” I say, holding up the drill.
“I started running drugs for him two months back. He’s going to take over Chicago and make it his territory.” He informs me.
“Oh is that right?” I say with a sly smile. “And what the fuck makes him think that?”
“I don’t know, he said he knows Al. Apparently has unfinished business with him.” Frank says.
Al Santoro is my father. He’s been overseeing the organization since Luciano and I took over five years ago. Before that, he was in charge of everything.
“We’re going to have to go see Pops about this one. We’ll head back down here once we have some more info.” I say to Luciano.
Luciano and I barge into our father’s study while he sits by the fireplace, puffing on a cuban cigar.
“My boys! To what do I owe the pleasure?” He says cheerfully.
“Conejo.” I deadpan.
My father’s smile drops. “That fucker’s name hasn’t been spoken in years. What’s going on?”
“Well apparently Frank has been working with him. Guess my intel on Rowan McCarthy wasn’t ‘useless personal shit’ after all.” I say. “Says he plans to take over Chicago as his territory.”
“He said the same thing ten years ago. Then I took out half his fucking crew and he went into hiding. He’s been hiding out for the last ten years. I didn't think he’d ever pull this shit again.” My father says, his hands now shaking.
“You’re scared of him.” I say. I can see the way his demeanor has changed since I said his name.
“The fuck did you just say to me?” He seethes. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ say I’m scared. If you weren’t my son I’d stick your fuckin’ face in that fire place until you stopped moving. I’m not afraid of anyone. Set up a meeting with Conejo and get this shit handled. Bring all of your men in case shit goes down.”
Without another word I nod to him and Luciano and I leave his office in silence. If he handled Conejo ten years ago, I have no doubt we’ll handle him again. Guys like Conejo are light work.
Rowan
I spent some time moping about this whole messed up situation, but today I decided to stop stressing so much and just take advantage of the amenities instead. I had Deirdra pick up a bright orange designer thong bikini for me so I could sit by the pool for a while, and by a while I mean I’ve sat out here the entire day and my skin is starting to redden. I’ve been talking to the guard, Alonzo. He didn’t talk much until we got on the subject ofUFC, then we pretty much became friends. He’s nice once he gets to talking. All of the staff is, so far.
“I see you’ve finally made yourself at home.” Grayson walks up, wrapping a towel around my waist.
“Hey I wasn’t done swimming!” I say.
“Yeah you are. Let’s go.” He says, clasping a hand around my elbow and pulling me behind him.
I don’t know what the hell his problem is but it’s probably best I don’t question him. Idefinitelydon’t want to lose my privileges of staying in the house and end up in a bunker like he’s already threatened.
“What are you doing dressed like that in front of my staff, Row?”
“Dressed like what? I’m literally wearing a swimsuit because I was in the pool.” I say. Rolling my eyes.
“You can wear a different swimsuit. One I approve of. I’ll be informing Deirdra.”
I stop abruptly as we near the staircase to the bedroom.
“What is your problem? I’m trying to go along with this whole thing like you wanted and now you find an issue with something. I don’t understand how what I wear even matters to you!” I tense as he holds my gaze, something angry in his eyes. No,possessive.
“I don’t care that this isn’t a traditional marriage. I don’t care if you don’twantto be married. I don’t care if you despise me. You aremywife, what’s mine is mine and if you’re dressing like that in front of my men, it puts me in the position of having to cut their eyes out of their fucking heads for looking at you.”