Page 47 of Legacy
“You have my blessing, Angelo.”
I exhale.
I got what I wanted.
Almost.
Now I have to get Maksim on board.
“Thank you.”
His eyes soften momentarily.
“Remember, the world of Cosa Nostra is not kind to those who can’t handle its pressures. If there’s a single crack in your armor, they’ll find it and kill.”
***
This is my third shot of whiskey and I just have to man the fuck up.
I settle back on the plush couch in my penthouse, phone in hand.
Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across one wall, the city lights burning like scattered embers against the night sky. A decanter sits half-drained on the bar, and the air still smells faintly of smoke and cedar.
The line buzzes once before Maksim picks up, his voice as smooth and unhurried as ever.
“Maks,” I start, keeping my tone calm. “I need your help.”
There’s a pause and I can hear the assholes smirk through the line.
“Do you now? Going soft on me, Amato?”
I clench my jaw, but let the jab slide.
Maksim’s a dick.
An acquired taste, but I don’t have time to placate him tonight.
“I want what we agreed on. My father said he’d step down, if I bring him an alliance with the Bratva.”
Maksim scoffs.
“He tried that shit with me, he wants territory, I’m not willing to give.”
“I don’t want that shit, we can tell him you’re giving it, but I won’t take it. I just need him out of the seat.”
Silence.
I check the phone. Call is still live.
Maksim’s laugh just about vibrates the phone in my hand, that loud boisterous fuck.
“Interesting,” he drawls. “You want him gone that bad?”
I swallow down the lump in my throat.
“It’s my time.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Amato.”
