Page 8 of Blood & Loyalties
“Boss,” he snapped into the phone. “Yeah, he’s here, said he comes in armed.” Beefy man’s eyes never left me or my men behind me.
Fuck it. I walked over and plopped my ass down in one of the chairs on the side of the open room. This was obviously going to take a while, and I was tired of standing.
Beefy man nodded to the phone. Idiot.
I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for what felt like forever while they had their pussy-whipped conversation. After hanging up, beefy man walked over to where I was sitting with my men standing beside me. I looked up and waited with a quirk of my brow.
“Boss says you can go in.”
I uncrossed my legs and stood up straight.
“But you go in alone.”
I stopped, pulled out my phone, and dialed Capella directly. I was fucking sick of this game.
He answered on the first ring.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I barked into the phone, gripping it tightly.
“If you want to be armed, I respect that, but the meeting will be just you and me. No guards, anywhere.” This wasn’t uncommon; it just seemed like a dog and pony show, and did he not remember who the fuck I was?
“You called the meet, not me. I’m here; my men are here. You have the terms, so we do this, or we don’t, but stop wasting my time.” My tone was even, my words coming off in the same way my body language showed—chilled yet commanding. Like always, I was in control, the powerhouse.
His deep breathing on the other end of the phone only added to my agitation, but I would never let him see a rise out of me. Fuck him. I was in charge of me and everything around me.
“Agreed. Come on back.”
I clicked the phone off, pushing it back in my pocket, only to hear the quiet chirping of a phone next to me. Beefy guy picked his cell up, and it took everything I had not to laugh at the dumb fucker. Who the hell had a fucking bird chirping as their ring tone? Nothing screamed badass more. Moron.
“Follow me.” He led us down a long hallway and into a conference room.
I nodded to my men who stood guard outside the door, weapons close. The room was sparse; the only furniture was a large, round table in the center with chairs around it, and off to the side was a small bar with bottles of liquor.
From an interior door in the room, Capella strutted in with a cocky smirk on his face. Dumb fuck. He was the one who needed me, not the other way around. There were always others to take his place. The Capella family was small potatoes, one of many, in Lambardoni’s eyes. Regardless, Vino and Remeo had an agreement allowing him to move product. It had stuck over the years.
Wearing a slick navy suit with pinstripes down it and a crisp white shirt underneath, he was trying way too hard to be powerful when he wasn’t. I take that back; he was powerful inhisfamily, but not in the Lambardoni family.
He strode over to me, holding out his hand in invitation, and I reciprocated, clutching his hand firmly.
“Jag, glad you could come. Sorry about all the security. You know how it is.” His words played on my nerves, and from the slight twitch in his jaw, he knew it.
I released him, stepping back. “I know that if your fucking men put a goddamned hand on me, they won’t make it long,” I barked, crossing my arms over my chest and widening my stance, not bothering to sit down in the chairs.
I knew Capella, had worked with him since I started running things in California. I could have written a playbook on his emotions and mannerisms. He had to handle the elephant in the room first and get it off his chest, so I waited.
He chuckled, and I gritted my teeth. “I bet not. Let’s talk about Antonio, yeah?”
“Talk,” I said, allowing him to say whatever the fuck he needed to get it over with so we could move on.
“I hear he fucked some blonde in a bathroom and disrespected Ms. Catarina, yeah?”
I nodded my head, not bothering to answer since he already knew it.
“Stupid kid. I swear these assholes need to learn to keep their dicks in their pants.” He shook his head, walking over to the bar. “You want?” He held up a bottle of clear liquid.
“No,” I answered gruffly.
“Calm down. I’m not pissed about Antonio. He’s lucky he didn’t get a bullet between his eyes. There’s no retaliation or payback for this. He made his own mess; he’ll clean it up.” Remeo dismissed it with a flick of his wrist to the air.
