Page 137 of Dangerous King
Marcello breaks the silence. "What information did they get?"
"The only one who can answer that question is Matías." Toni's glare stays on Edoardo.
Edoardo answers like a man with no more script left. "Some members of his gang went rogue. He's dealing with it."
I clap my hands. Ignoring my father's hiss, I allow the rage to simmer in plain view. "Un-fucking-believable. You believe that shit?"
Carlos smells blood. "Hold on, let's get back to Antonio. Who did it is not that important right now—" Marcello snorts, butCarlos barrels on, "More important," he emphasizes, "is that vital information was stolen from us, underhiswatch!"
He points his finger at Toni, wagging it.
"That's ridiculous, Toni couldn't—" I rush to Toni's defense, ignoring my father, who is, once again, kicking me under the table.
Toni stops me, "He's right," he agrees, "It did happen under my watch. Alfonso was my man. What happened is my fault."
Carlos puffs his chest. "This wouldn't have happened under my watch in the LA territory."
"Antonio DeLuna was tasked with keeping vital information safe and failed," Edoardo declares in a slow, deliberate voice that sounds staged, gleeful that his plan is back on track. "We all know the punishment for that."
Papa grips my shoulder. Holds me back from lunging across the table. I grip the chair like it's the only thing anchoring me. I've killed for less.
"We don't even know what information they got," I say. It's weak, but it's the only rope I've got.
Marcello follows through. "You killed the bastards, right?"
"They're dead," Toni confirms, "but they wouldn't tell me on whose orders they operated or what happened to the information."
Stephano steps in next, "What failsafe did you have in place?"
"Alfonso never knew the names associated with the accounts. It was all encrypted. At the end of the year, a program would fill them in and send them to the IRS," Toni explains.
"On both businesses?" Dante clarifies, meaning what we report to the IRS, and… the other side.
Toni nods. "He knew our names, of course, but they weren't tied to the parts of the accounts he saw."
Stephano shrugs, "That's good enough for me."
"What do you mean?" Carlos blusters.
"I mean," Stephano's voice turns sharp, "that we are all vulnerable, not just Antonio. We all have enemies who can pick whoever the fuck they want off the street. What if Nestor got snatched? Would you want to get a bullet to the head? I bet he would have a lot to sing about?" He emphasizes the last part of his statement. Nestor is Carlos's second-in-command.
Carlos's eyes narrow at the insinuations. "Nestor would never talk."
"Really?" Stephano doesn't let up. "Not even if they had his little girl?"
Carlos rages, "We're not talking about hypotheticals here, we're?—"
"Stephano has a point," Marcello interrupts his father. "What happened was a very unfortunate incident. Antonio did the right thing, straight away. He didn't try to cover it up or downplay it. He had fail-safes in place, and he acted swiftly. I see no fault in this."
"I'm with your son on this," Gustave agrees.
"Well, it's a good thing the boy doesn't have a vote yet, but I do." Carlos puffs his chest out.
Out of nowhere, Papa shocks the room, "I'd be very careful, if I were you, on how you cast that vote." That's my old man. Always waiting for the moment with the most weight. He sees what I see. If this falls on Toni, none of us is safe. "Because Stephano brought up a very valid point. I, for one, do not fancy a bullet to my head because one of my men decided to sing."
"Is that it then? Forgive and forget?" Edoardo fumes.
Carlos claws for leverage. "You can make him return my territory to me. This wouldn't have happened under my watch,"
