Page 50 of The Lieutenant

Christos knew that better than any other member of the family. He and Leandro had been tight, their relationship often turning social. The two of them had almost died after spouting off after drinking in front of the wrong crowd. That had been years before, but Pops had yet to allow Christos to forget.

I walked closer, pocketing my shades. “This isn’t about making a point.”

“Bullshit. That’s exactly what this is about. Bernardi is lying in wait like a wolf. He needs to be reminded our world isn’t to be fucked with.”

This wasn’t my first song and dance, neither was it his. His emotions were clouding his judgment.

“What would you have me do, send Bernardi the man’s body parts?” I demanded.

“With a pretty little red bow on the box on top to match the contents. Yes, that’s exactly what I think should happen.”

While Christos was eloquent in most aspects of his life, he’d failed in successfully acquiring needed information. That was why I’d been called the debt collector in the organization more than once. To date, I’d never failed, something I intended on keeping up. I always walked away with either information or flesh and blood. Up to this point, which one had never mattered to me.

As soon as my brother removed his sunglasses, I could tell he’d come with previously unknown details.

“You learned something of value.”

“Yes. Our instincts were correct.” He nodded toward the warehouse door. Whatever he had to tell me was sensitive information. But if I had to guess, I’d say he was about to tell me our carefully protected world was about to be challenged again.

A war.

CHAPTER 15

“All warfare is based on deception.”

—Sun Tzu

Havros

War. The art of knowing when to engage in battle was often what won wars. Those who didn’t listen or observe actions of others were doomed to defeat.

A proud statement by my uncle, repeated by my father more than once.

Dimitrios was itching for a war. Christos was hoping for peace.

I was somewhere in between.

The tenuous agreement set in motion by the five families of Italy’s regime had been stretched and tested over the last several years. Never so much as with the death of our brother. What I didn’t want to happen was for us to fall into the waves ofdeception, going blindly down a path of revenge that would ultimately lead us to destruction.

Whatever Christos was about to tell me would be taken with a grain of salt. It would also burn into the back of my mind.

The warehouse was quiet, employees told to stay away for the morning hours. By the time they returned for their shifts, the activity and subsequent cleanup would be complete.

We walked in through the main section, boxes of wine and other supplies neatly stacked on shelving units. Hidden in certain areas were already prepared crates, soon to be headed for the port and eventually to several other countries. We exported everything from precious diamonds to tobacco products, all considered legal, yet a dangerous proposition given the pirates always canvassing the Aegean Sea.

However, both Kara and Theo had been correct in their assumption. The family had become rich on heroin and arms deals. While we were phasing out that portion of our business, we would never be free from either product completely. There was simply too much money to be made.

I had no clue why I was reflecting on our various products, the billion-dollar business something to be grateful for. But on this day, it felt dirty. My footsteps echoed on the concrete floor as I headed to the back room. Very few people had a key, only the most trusted soldiers along with family members. I wondered when my father had been here last. Torture had been a method of relaxation.

I’d never understood until recently, although I preferred sailing and diving the depths of the sea to being covered in blood splatter.

Once inside the room, the old familiar stench of blood would forever remain. Decades of torture had offered the permanent odor and decay, something no chemical could ever dissipate.

I stood in the doorway, studying the man who’d been tracked and brought here. He was smaller in stature than I’d believed, although all muscle. The creaking sound of the chains holding his swinging body to the exposed beams was not the only noise. Aldo was already struggling, hatred building in his eyes as he cursed in Italian. His words were muffled, not that I cared to understand them. This wasn’t going to be a negotiation. At this stage, they never were.

He’d worked with Luca Marciano, once the arranged fiancé of Dimitrios’ first love, her death crushing the powerful Boss. Thankfully, Willow had brought my brother back to life. With Luca dead, Aldo as well as several other soldiers had mysteriously disappeared. At one point we’d believed them already dead. Then we realized they’d been lying in wait. At this point, my guess was they’d done their best to blend in with the Greeks so they could obtain intel regarding our organization. I didn’t buy their sudden desire to find and live another life.

Every one of them, including the broken man hanging from the beams, had shifted their loyalty to working for a powerful Cosa Nostra Cartel, Don Bernardi’s reign almost as brutal as my father’s had been. Except Don Bernardi was still in charge. The ruthless pig was as conniving as I’d experienced, enough so my gut told me it was only a matter of time until he reared his ugly head.

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