Page 7 of Winds of War

A list in hand, he stepped inside and started to put item after item into the shopping cart until it was full to the brim, paid, and then left the store with a bright smile playing on his lips the whole time. Your starving days are over, sweet soul, Cahal thought while loading the trunk with grocery bags. I will feed you all the tasty dishes and foods you craved for.

Back in his cell, Nigel Warthon lay on the bunk, reflecting on the conversation he just had with his bastard son. Who would have thought that the boy had it in him, he thought, shaking his head in disbelief. Not me, that's for sure, the man answered himself, remembering his anger and frustration when his father twisted his arm into taking Cahal to live with him.

Nigel didn't believe in the authenticity of the DNA test the boy's mother showed him when she shoved the little pesky thing down his throat. With all her money and connections in high places, forging the document would have been a piece of cake. However, Cahal's way of thinking convinced Nigel that the teen was his flesh and blood.

However, the inmate wasn't thrilled at the thought of stripping himself of all his earthly possessions and handing them to the boy on a silver platter. There were still people in the outside world who owed him big time, and he intended to reach out to them and ask for the favors to be returned.

You may be a hell of a good strategist, boy, but you are naive when it comes to the ways of life. One way or another, I'm going to find out what your vulnerable spot is, and I'm going to use it against you. Then, I'm going to take what's yours. An evil smile formed on Nigel's lips as he imagined the blond boy crying helplessly when he was pounding into that tight, sweet ass of his.

************

“Gods, it's so good to be home!” Ardan let out a sigh of contentment, plopping down on the big leather armchair behind his desk. “I briefly caught a glance of Seamus on the way here. I'm happy he is finally back.”

“Yes, and he's already up to no good.” Fabian grinned, amused. “But I suspect you already knew that. After all, you're the boss,” the man continued, his sapphire-blue eyes shining with paternal affection.

“And you are my wise advisor and my Pater,” Ardan spoke, respect, admiration, and filial love mixing in his voice. “Right now, I need all your wisdom and support.” He ran a hand over his face.

Fabian examined the younger man with undisguised concern. “Son, you don't look very good. What happened there?” He paused a little, making efforts to hide the worry in his voice. “Was it that bad?”

“I'll let you be the judge of that.” Ardan let out a long, heavy sigh. “The dons of the reputable Chicago and Detroit Mafia families said we will have their full, unconditional support...if we attack first.”

“That's...they refuse to help us but are afraid to say it to our face.” Fabian balled his hands into fists, frustration and anger slowly taking over him. “Everyone knows we at The Base prefer negotiations over war, and by that declaration, they have their backs covered.”

Ardan shook his head, sadness and defeat mixing in his eyes. “Even some of the wisest gang leaders and dons fail to see that, once started, this war will destroy everything in its path: businesses, lives, families...”

“It's very sad, indeed. Fortunately, there are also those who see that Montemayor bastard's real intentions and don't fall into his trap. I'm thinking about Don Giuseppe Fenelli, Don Luciano Manzani, and Don Antonio Garofalo from Detroit, and Everett Isbell-Manfredi and all the associates of the Lombardi family from Chicago.” Fabian tried to give the conversation a more positive note.

Ardan nodded in approval, a little bit more relaxed. “Indeed, the number of those who don't want this bloody war is higher than those who don't see how dangerous it is.” The Base's leader stopped for a moment, inhaling sharply. “There's also this guy, a newcomer, whose managed to become very powerful by unifying all the small gangs under his command. He approached me, offering his unconditional support, on one condition.”

Fabian leaned forward, his eyes shining with curiosity and interest. “Arman Bedrossian. I know that guy. Judging by his name, he is of Armenian origin but doesn't have anything from his nation's proverbial hot temper, on the contrary. He is an excellent negotiator, a wise diplomat, well-versed in the Mafia politics... An alliance with Bedrossian would considerably consolidate our position,” Fabian continued in an enthusiastic voice. “What's his condition?”

“To help him find his son.”

CHAPTER 6

“Arman Bedrossian has a son? This is game-changing information.” Fabian rubbed his hands in excitement. “The section of Chicago he took over was a high-risk one, and the new leader appointing a successor would bring peace between different factions and stability in the long run.”

Ardan nodded in approval. “That's right. Anyway, Bedrossian didn't think of any of the things you mentioned. He's just a father looking for the son he hasn't see since the child was two. He heard about The Base and thinks the boy may be here.” Ardan took his wallet out of the pocket of his jacket, pulled a little photo out of it, and slid it across the desk. “This is the most recent picture of the boy, taken about three weeks ago.”

Fabian examined the delicate, almost feminine facial features of the blond teen in the photo. “Poor thing seems undernourished and, judging by the look in his eyes, he's not very happy, either.” The man shook his head, sadness invading his voice. “My heart breaks when I see them like that.”

“I don't think I've seen him around here. The face doesn't seem familiar, but maybe he was brought to us during my absence.” Ardan relaxed into the chair and changed the subject, making a mental note to take a look into that matter as soon as possible. “Speaking of, what happened while I was away? How is Don Joaquin adjusting to his new role and responsibilities?”

“He's a fast learner.” Fabian's answer came in a warm voice. “Whoever was in charge of this young man's education did a hell of a good job. He treats everyone as an equal, mixes with the crowd, and isn’t afraid to ask questions when he doesn't know or understand something. Mark my words, son, Joaquin Montemayor-Fenelli will be a great leader one day.”

Ardan nodded in approval, the signature shy, small smile playing on his lips. “Like grandfather, like grandson. He inherited all the Fenelli men's qualities. Even in these troubled times, an alliance with us would bring him the respect of the traditionalist dons from New York, Chicago and Detroit.”

“Well, son, the alliance between young Joaquin and you may be more durable than you think,” Fabian smiled mischievously. “Don Giuseppe's grandson hangs out with your sons and their friends a lot, and it seems he has a special interest in Cian.”

Ardan let out a small gasp of surprise. “Didn't Soames, one of the guards who patrols around the school, have a thing for my son? Ever since he came here about four years ago, the guy has followed Cian around like a shadow, always paying attention to the smallest change in the way he breaths, moves, or talks.”

Fabian nodded. “I noticed that, too. I like Soames a lot. He's always there for the young children who feel lost or lonely, wiping their tears and doing his best to comfort them. Maybe his affection is not reciprocated, or he didn't even tell Cian what he feels for him.” Fabian shook his head, his voice filled with warmth and understanding. “The matters of the heart can be very tangled sometimes, especially when both parties involved are shy and quiet like Soames and that son of yours.”

Ardan left his seat, went on the other side of the desk, and gave Fabian a tight hug. “As always, you gave me the best pieces of advice and ideas, and I'm immensely grateful for having you in my life, Pater.”

“I'm happy I could help you, son.” Fabian examined the other man's face, gently disentangling from the embrace. “You look exhausted and should have been home by now, resting or spending time in Alasdair, Paisley, and Axel's company.” The man smiled, his sapphire-blue eyes shining with affection. “I swear, those two get smarter by the day.”

“And taller, and a bit heavier, too.” Ardan smiled radiantly, his turquoise eyes becoming incandescent. “I missed them like crazy, so I think I'm going to take your advice and call it a day. I'll call Fergus, Brennan, and Lothier and apologize for not meeting them today as initially planned.”

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