Page 168 of Ruthless Creatures
“I’ll get you that glass of wine. I’ll be right back.”
Nodding, she turns away and winds her arms around her waist. I leave her staring out the window and head into the kitchen, pulling out the phone and putting it against my ear.
The number is blocked, which is a good sign. Everyone else who calls me is programmed in.
“Talk to me.”
“It’s done.”
The voice on the other end of the line has a slight Italian accent. Massimo only lived in Italy until he was ten years old, but still retains a hint of his motherland in his speech.
“Good. How?”
“A fight broke out in the lunch room. Made it look like he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Got caught in the crossfire, so to speak. There won’t be any questions.”
Hearing that, I breathe easier. Until Massimo adds, “You owe me for this.”
These pushy Italian fuckers. Always asking for more.
But I expected this. A deal as complicated as this one is never straightforward.
“I’m opening up the ports for you, remember? You can take up trade again, get the money flowing, when all the other families are still locked down. That was the deal. We’re square.”
His laugh is short and hard. “No. Knocking off the boss of a family is too big to make us even. And you know all it would take is for me to leak word of this and you’d be fucked.”
“No one would believe you, Massimo. You’re a pathological liar.”
“I guess that’s a chance you’d have to take, wouldn’t you? There’s always some ambitious malcontent in the ranks who’d be happy to start a coup and install himself as the new king.” He laughs again. “You should know.”
I’m not worried by this threat. I sense Massimo has somethingelse he wants. He doesn’t care about exposing me, but he does care about gaining advantages.
Whatever it is, he’ll reveal it eventually.
“Go ahead. Say what you want. My men are loyal, and we’re in the middle of a war. You’d look like an idiot.”
“Yourmen? Max isn’t even cold yet and you’re already taking the reins? You’re one vicious fuck, Kazimir.”
“Remember that the next time you threaten me.”
He scoffs. “Like I don’t have insurance for that scenario. I drop dead, all the heads of the Russian families get a nice little package from me, explaining what you did.”
“Sure. The proof?”
“A recording of this conversation, for one thing.”
I smile, opening the wine fridge. “Too bad I’ve got a scrambler on the signal so all you’ll hear on playback is white noise.”
In the following silence, I hear Massimo seething.
“Look. I appreciate your effort. And I’m in a generous mood. So as long as what you’ve said turns out to be fact, and I see on the news that Max died in a prison fight as an innocent bystander, caught in the frenzy of a bunch of crazy Italians beating each other up over drugs, I’ll grant you a favor. Look the other way if you want to steal one of our shipments, something like that.Accordo?”
He pauses.“Accordo.”
His pause was too brief for me to believe it’s going to be something as small and inconvenient as stealing a shipment, but I’ll deal with it when it happens.
One thing at a time.
We hang up without a goodbye.
