Page 60 of Toxic

Papà's menacing scowl refocuses on my brothers. He points at them, growling, "You don't go looking for trouble. How many times do I have to drill this into your thick heads?"

Tristano's face hardens further. "Did you forget so soon they kidnapped Arianna?"

"Watch your mouth," Papà warns.

"Let's forget the kids in the room and return to the details. What are those pieces of shit up to now?" I ask.

"Fuck off," Massimo curses.

Gianni shifts on his feet, looking bored with the entire scenario. "I've got shit to do today, so if we can move this along."

Papà walks around his desk and unrolls a map, putting his paperweights on the corners. The four of us step closer and watch him point then drag his finger along Newark Bay. "They just increased their men at Port Newark Container Terminal, here and here."

"And why aren't we taking them out?" Massimo fumes.

I don't blame him. The port is one of the busiest container ports in the world. All the goods coming in and out of New York are through there. Over the years, we've created an agreement with the Abruzzos and other crime families in order to co-exist. We all have our specific locations, and crossing over is asking for war. The spot my father is pointing to is a gray zone. It's an area where neither Abruzzos nor Marinos go, so we can both do our business without the threat of each other looming over the other. A family entering a gray zone is an aggressive move and one you don't embark upon unless you're ready to battle.

"I'm with Massimo. Take the bastards out at night and send a message to get back on their own turf, or we're ready for war," I state, still reeling over Arianna's abduction as well as the vision of Bridget pinned to the couch by Michelotto.

"Agreed. I'll do it tonight if you want," Gianni adds.

"Count me in," Tristano mutters.

Papà's face turns red. He shakes his head hard, seething, "Have I not taught you anything?"

"It's better to be on the offensive than defensive," I claim.

My father's voice rises. "We are down dozens of men from the last encounter we had with the Abruzzos. Have you all forgotten?"

Tense silence fills the office. Nine months ago, we had an altercation that took out a few of our toughest men, all blood relations.

Gianni sniffs hard, his disgust digging deeper into his expression. "And did you forget they took us by surprise? That we weren't prepared, and that's why we have several widows in our family now?"

"Of course I didn't. But we can't risk another street battle right now," Papà states.

I cross my arms. "Where are the men Giuseppe promised to send? It's been almost a year. When we were in Italy last, he gave us his word he would help us rebuild."

"He's having issues. The Abruzzos have gotten stronger in Italy as well. He's trying to stabilize, and it's more complicated than he anticipated. Until we get reinforcements, we can't risk a war."

"Which is exactly why we need to take those thugs out now. The four of us can do it tonight. We'll keep it quiet," I declare.

My father slams his hand on his desk, roaring, "Like you kidnapped Michelotto? Because you sure as hell didn't think before you picked him up!"

"I was discreet," Gianni asserts.

Papà's face flushes maroon. "You picked him up hours after your altercation. I was still meeting with the heads of the crime families. Do you have any idea what your actions have done?"

"Made the prick sorry he was ever born," Massimo snickers.

Papà's rage grows. He points to Massimo and Tristano. "You and you. Out. Now!"

"And once again, we miss all the fun," Tristano comments.

"One more word—"

"Easy, or even the diet Arianna has you on isn't going to stop you from having a heart attack," Massimo states, patting Tristano on the back and steering him out of the room.

When the door shuts, my father pins his steely eyes back on Gianni and me. "I expect more from you two. You both know we're vulnerable right now."

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