Page 114 of Mob Knight

“It has nothing to do with our relatives. At least, not my father or your uncle.”

There’s a prolonged pause before he responds. His tone could freeze ice.

“Juan. You mean when he had to intervene. Back then, you made an honest mistake because you were newly assigned to the neighborhood. You’re a first responder and did what you believed was your duty. What you believed was right. You didn’t know better.”

That last bit. That’s a lesson I learned young. The outside world believes syndicates are morally void. Within this world, morals are situational, but ethics are absolute. Someone’s idea of what’s right and wrong might change by circumstance, but the organizations’ ethics are unwavering. The codes of conduct don’t differ that much across the organizations. The one thing that’s never contestable is youdon’tcall the police, and youneverhelp the government.

Given that, I think it’s pretty understandable why I avoided Pablo like herpes—you’re far more likely to catch that these days than the plague.

Since he’s figured it out, I see no reason to respond. Even if I wanted to, I don’t get the chance because Cormac bursts into the room. He practically rips the phone from my hand.

“What the—” He glances down at me. “—feck do you want with my woman,caremonda?” Slang forcara de monda—face of a penis.

I stifle my laugh. That’s definitely more Colombian than Mexican. They swear a lot more, and the curses they have a definitely more—colorful. It might equate to dickhead, but Cormac means nothing that benign.

He doesn’t put it on speaker, but the volume’s loud enough for me to hear most of what Pablo says.

“I was checking on your girlfriend.”

“Why?”

“People in the neighborhood will worry.”

“How thoughtful. What do you want?”

“I told you to speak to Niko. Did you?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“He told me to talk to Gabriele.”

“Did you?”

“Nothing good ever comes from you being a nosy little fecker.Eres peor que una abuela chismosa.” You’re worse than a gossipy old grandma.

“It’s not gossip when it’s true. The families will want to know Ms. Bracero is all right.”

He’s not using my father’s last name anymore. Traditional Spanish last names place the mother’s maiden name at the end. Espinoza Bracero. He used Espinoza earlier to make a point. One he won’t antagonize Cormac with.

“Thank you for your concern. Goodb?—”

“Cor, don’t be a douche. Put her on the phone. I have one last thing to say, and I promise it won’t insult her.”

I nod, but Cormac looks like he’s about to sit down for a root canal. He hits the speaker button.

“I’m here, Mr. Diaz.”

“You’ve feared I would retaliate for your mistake years ago. It cost us some money, but no damage was done. I regret you feared I’d come after you for it. My uncle can’t stand your father, and I detest your—boyfriend. But I didn’t exaggerate about the good you’ve done in our neighborhoods. I already heard what happened today. If you’re ever threatened, and you can’t get to the O’Rourkes, you come to me or my family.”

“Why should I believe you? You implied to Cormac I was fucking your cousin. You used me.”

“I did. But I’ve also had a security detail on you for years. You go nowhere in any Latino neighborhood in New York without someone making sure you’re safe. I don’t think you realize how much the families value you. My uncle would have a mutiny if anything happened to you.”

Can he whack my boss?

I shouldn’t think shit like that, but I’m pissed at Martha. Extremely pissed.

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