Page 49 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

Anthony throws his hands in the air, and I know he’s about to start an argument. “This—” he huffs, “is what gets me angry. You know how you’re supposed to handle this—how the Cross family has always handled people like this.”

He drags my chair across the floor as he pushes it back, and the sound grates on my nerves, but I don’t say anything. Anthony is a short fuse, and he’ll never do anything to disrespect me, but he’ll find some other way to express his rage.

I don’t want thatother wayto be somebody’s head. My father never had to cover up for me when he was alive because I always kept in line.

As much as he pulled wild strings to protect the Cross family, he always told me, “You do some stupid shit, you dig yourself out. You’re supposed to hold yourself in the highest regard.”

I took that from him, which means Anthony will be digging himself out if he ends up in jail for assault and battery charges.

All I can do is try and keep him from getting there.

“Your father,” he points at me. “He was ruthless. He would beat up a motherfucker before they had a word to say. People feared him in every room he walked into. My father—” he swallows heavily, and a muscle twitches in his jaw as it hardens, “wouldn’t have tolerated this bullshit. He taught me how to throw a punch to keep them from thinking about standing up.”

Them.

Commoners.

Any other debasing name to describe people not in the mafia. It’s no secret what Anthony thinks of them, and they’re only useful as one-night stands, flings, or meat bags.

“I’ll handle it,” I say firmly as he paces my office, his fist cocked and ready to punch something. My voice is controlled, but it carries a reminder of who is in control. “I wanted to give you a heads-up so you’re not caught unawares by changes I intend to implement.”

He scoffs and thrusts his hands on his hips. “Like what? You’ll stop moving and selling because of thempigs?You know we have enough in our pockets. I know you’re soft—” he says with enough bite to send a jab, “but I can do it. I’ll pull the strings and have them clear things out.”

“It’s either that,” Anthony shrugs as he returns to the chair, falling carelessly on it, “or I do it myself. Tell me which you’d prefer because I know you’re worried about the fallback.”

I should’ve had someone shadow Anthony while I figured things out on my own.

“I’ll let you know.”

He shakes his head. “This is why he shouldn’t have died. The Cross name is becoming a joke. We need to remind them that we once ran the streets. We ran Philadelphia!” He bangs his fist on the desk.

It’s enough to get a rise out of me, and I lean in suddenly, my eyes blazing with a warning. “I understand that you’re angry, but I won’t have you question my authority, Anthony. Everything I’ve done until now has worked out for the benefit of the family.”

“You either trust me, or you don’t,” I continue, exhaling from my nostrils and trying to rein in my temper. “I’m tempted to think that you don’t, and that’s not something I’m willing to overlook.”

Anthony’s jaw tightens, his frustration barely restrained as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed. His gaze locks onto mine, sharp and unyielding, but he knows better than to push further.

“I trust you,” he finally says, though there’s a begrudging edge to his tone. “I just don’t trust the people around us to respect that trust. They smell weakness, Ethan. They see hesitation, and they think they can take what’s ours.”

I tilt my head slightly, measuring his words. “And you think storming in without a plan is the answer? That reminding them we ‘ran the streets’ will be enough to set things right?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes locked onto mine. “I think they need a reminder of who we are. Right now, they don’t fear us. They don’t respect us.” His voice drops lower. “And if they don’t respect us, they’ll replace us.”

A slow breath escapes me as I fight the fire creeping up my spine. “I know what’s at stake. And I’m not letting it happen.”

Anthony watches me for a beat, his jaw tight. Then he nods once. “Then prove it.”

I already am. He doesn’t see it yet.

But I need to move faster. Anthony’s patience is running thin, and I don’t trust him to sit back and let me handle things. If I wait too long, he’ll take matters into his own hands.

And that’s a risk I can’t afford.

Chapter Fifteen

Natalie

This time around,I smell him.

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