Page 53 of Fortress of the King

“The prodigal son finally returns,” I say, sitting back in my chair.

“Speak for yourself,” he retorts with a laugh.

“Thought you’d emigrated, or did you finally find a piece of pussy that wanted you for more than one night?”

“Very funny, fucker. Marco told me about the latest update at the warehouse,” he goes on. “And what needs taking care of.”

He’s talking about the human cargo shipment takedown and looking into this Senator Mendes piece of shit.

Although the phone lines are secure, we never discuss business. I’ve also got my house completely swept for bugs, and it gets checked regularly.

“We need to take care of it pronto.”

“The Gala Ball is coming up, it seems like a good enough time. Lots of people and activity. Nobody will be expecting it. Sometimes you gotta hide things in plain view.”

Not a half-bad idea from my little brother, but I don’t tell him that. “Get Fynn on it with you. He’s been MIA of late, and it’s about time he pulled his weight around here, I’m sick of doing all the heavy lifting.” I absently wonder if Rayne would be up for a night on the town with me, it would undoubtedly get some tongues wagging, but I barely give a fuck about that.

The question is do I want to share her with the rest of the world just yet.

“We need to talk about our fellow friends from the Soviet.”

I don’t ever say Petrov or the Russians over the phone.

“What about them? Aside from the usual?”

The Petrovs have always been trying to get their hands on our turf, and for the most part, we’ve weeded them out.

Boston is mine, long before Mario handed it to me, and I will go down in flames before letting any of the Petrovs take what’s mine.

It’s Medici territory, always has been, always will be. Threats come and go almost daily, but I’ve heard from one too many sources that the Russians are going underground.

For one, they're trying to flush us out of the casino by orchestrating illegal gambling and betting on fights all across the city. It’s absolute bullshit and fucking disrespectful to think they can get away with it. I have no idea what they believe they are doing unless they want a war. Maybe they think they have nothing to lose, or perhaps they just have a death wish.

I grin at that thought. I’m afraid of no one, not these fucking Russians, and definitely not Rombaldi and his merry band of human trafficking smugglers. The plot is to get them all and take them out one by one. Trust me, they wouldn’t offer us the same courtesy.

Being ruthless is part of the job, it’s second nature.

“There are some pretty loud whispers of them turning tricks. This new gambling ring is getting outta control.”

“I think setting up a meeting might be the next best idea.” There are ways for me to spread a message, but meeting with the fucker is the starting point before we charge in with guns blazing. I’m not an unreasonable man. Even when our own livelihoods are called in question, they’re lucky I’m being this lenient. “Let’s have dinner tonight to discuss, message Marco and Fynn.”

“On it, Angelo.” There’s a pause down the other end. “So, where were you last night?” He sounds amused.

I know they all went to our club Bijou drinking last night and had a round of poker in one of our private rooms. Enzo messaged me when I was halfway bringing the delectable Rayne to her knees in my bedroom; I was much too busy to reply until later.

The corner of my mouth turns up, remembering it, and us in the shower this morning and how well she takes my cock. How good her pink ass looks after being spanked.

“I was home,” I say simply. “Did you miss me?”

“Not Tiffany again?” he groans.

Ah, Tiffany, yeah, I’ve been ignoring her messages. As well as Allegra’s. She tried calling, too, and I’ll definitely be returning the favor to find out what the fuck she did by telling Rayne all that shit. I know she’s just playing with her, but still. Not cool.

“No, I’m done with her.”

He chuckles. “Well, you know it’s Marco talking shit about it. You know what he’s like, jealous prick.”

Out of all of us, Dante is the most selective of the women he chooses to be with, maybe even more selective than I am, and utterly opposite to Fynn or the equally vivacious fuck buddy cousin, Jonas, who will screw anything that moves.

---