Page 30 of Malicious Claim

“Makros Crete.” A heavy set gray haired man greeted him.

“Signor Valentino,” Makros said cheerfully, embracing the man.

“I heard you took out the Crawfords and even married their daughter,” Valentino said.

“Si,si. You heard right.”

“Ah, no judgments. But Makros, be careful around that one.”

“Si. I've got to go now. But we will catch up soon.”

Snaking through the crowd, he and his bodyguards exited the club through the backdoor.

“Nothing must go wrong tonight!” He heard his cousin saying to the night shift boys and continued.

Stefanos could handle them. He, however, had other plans.

The guards halted by one of the auxiliary buildings and Makros went in alone, shutting the door firmly behind him. The building, known as the communications room, had severalbroadcasting equipment. He picked up a sat phone and punched in a set of numbers.

“Talk to me, Dragon,” he said as soon as the call went through.

“The truck is loaded, boss. We're waiting for Intel before Gerald makes his move.”

“AscoltamiDragon, listen to me. Under no circumstance should you make a move until agent Niccolo is here.”

“Siboss.”

“Succeed at all cost,” he said, hanging up.

There was a knock.

His hand went to his waist, feeling his gun, and he swiftly turned around.

“Who?”

“Stefanos.”

He opened the door, stepping aside for his cousin to enter.

“What’s the status?”

“Everything's set.” Stefanos leaned against a desk. “Nicolai has arrived with the ambassador. They're currently partying.” He swung the whiskey bottle in his hand.

Makros nodded. “And the ambassador's daughter?"

“You should be there to welcome her.”

He scoffed and moved closer to him. “Give me that,” he snatched the bottle and took a big swig. “Good drink.” His head bobbed as he pushed back the bottle to his cousin’s chest.

Stefanos quickly grabbed it so it wouldn’t fall. “Are you ready?” He asked, keeping a cautious eye on him.

“Fratello!” He sniffled and placed a hand on his shoulders. “We were born ready.”

“Si.”

“Stop asking questions, and let's go party. When tomorrow comes, we will continue our streak as the filthiest rich bastardsin the country. What'd you say?” He grinned mischievously, squeezing his shoulder.

“Let’s go, brother.”

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