Page 58 of Dangerous King
I don't even have a chance to take a breath and consider my next move when my phone rings; it's Silvano.
"Check the news."
Fuck, now what?
From inside, I hear my father's loud curses and prepare for another shitshow. I turn down the corridor and push open the office door.
My dad is standing in front of the television, a half-drunk glass of grappa forgotten on the desk. His posture is rigid, and his face is flushed with rage.
On screen, the news anchor cuts to a live interview.
Kevin Jasper, New York's golden boy of justice, stands before a podium, sleek in a tailored navy suit. No notes. No stumbles. Just smooth, media-trained outrage sharpened to a political edge.
"We are deeply saddened by the horrific violence that took place yesterday at the Astoria Galleria," he says, calm but resolute. "Twelve men with known or suspected ties to the Giordano crime family were found dead inside and around the scene."
My lips curl into a slow, humorless smirk.
Never leave a fallen soldier behind.I made surewedidn't.
Kevin continues. "But it wasn't just organized crime caught in the crossfire. Innocent people just trying to live their lives or provide for their families were caught in the chaos. Some didn't make it home."
His voice lowers with practiced gravity. "This is unacceptable."
My father throws back the rest of his drink in one swallow.
Kevin straightens, now fully addressing the camera. "We are currently reviewing all security footage from the surrounding areas. This was not a random act. We believe it was targeted. Coordinated. And I intend to uncover exactly who these men were after—and why."
He places a hand over his heart. "The people of this city deserve safety, transparency, and justice. I will not rest until they have it."
My father rounds on me, glass in hand. "Get your ass down there," he growls. "Right now."
"I'm already moving."
"I want that footage gone, Enrico. I don't care how. No trace. No names. If he gets one face—just one—he'll spin this all the way to a mayoral bid."
"He already is," I mutter.
"Then bury him before he gets the crown."
I turn and head for the door, already calling my new best friend, Marcello, back, before I step on any feet.
"Can't live without me, can you?" I can hear his smirk all the way through the line. Bastard.
"Have you seen the news?"
Marcello chuckles, "Let me guess, Kevin Jasper has your pantyhose in a twist?"
I grunt in response. "I'm just calling because I know he's your man and common courtesy demands I call before I take care of him."
"I appreciate the heads up, but all that shit falls into my good old dad's hat. You want permission to handle Kevin, you have to talk to him. Oh, and you might want to check with Toni De Luna as well. It's his leash. "
"Fuck!" I slap my hand against the wall, shaking a painting. Toni won't be an issue. But Carlos…
"Yeah, you and me both. Can't be too soon before good old dad's gone." Marcello divulges. He's starting to give me more, which is good.
"You might want to talk to Toni. I think you two have something in common," I advise. Toni has been on me for a while about us banding together and getting rid of Edoardo. I'm starting to see his point.
A couple of months ago, Carlos Orsi, Marcello's father, killed Jacomo DeLuna during a family dinner. Edoardo decreed that Toni was not to avenge his father's death. Ever since, Toni's beentrying to figure out a way to go behind the Don's back and rid the world of Carlos. Who is the last person in this world I want to talk to—or owe a favor to.
