Page 154 of Forbidden Romeo

“Gotcha.” Leo nodded a little too happily, then opened his door and got out. “Don’t worry, big brother. No one’s going to fuck with the almighty Dominic Luca, no matter what mutt he’s got trailing along behind him.”

“I’m not worried, I’m pissed. Next time, you can stay home and babysit the damn dog.”

“And miss listening to you bitch about it? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Leo smiled a goofy grin, then turned, straight-faced, toward the three cars as they pulled to a stop twenty yards in front of us.

They’d fanned out in a V formation, and while the front-runner had shut off his engine, I could hear the quiet purr coming from the other two cars. They were ready to move, but to flee or to attack? With the Free Bird Cartel, you never could tell.

“Game time,” I muttered under my breath.

Ignoring the dog–who had yet to sit still for a split second since bounding out of the front seat–I walked toward the lead car. Leo fell into stride beside me, his shoulders back and chin high. All remnants of my goofy younger brother were gone for the moment. I could barely tell he hadn’t been making trades like this all his life. He was still wet behind the ears, but he was no less lethal than the rest of us.

The doors swung open on the lead Cadillac, and three men stepped out. Three men I’d never seen before. The tallest of them—younger than the other two by far—took the lead with a briefcase in hand, walking toward us in a navy blue suit that was stretched across his unnaturally large shoulders. Steroids, for sure. He would have been better off putting his money toward a better suit. Even from this distance, it was clear the thing was a department store find that had seen better days. If he was self-conscious about his cheap façade, he tried not to show it. He walked with his nose a little too high in the air, his wide shoulders pushed back a bit too far.

The lackeys that flanked him were just as broad-shouldered and dressed no better. Maybe there’d been a three-for-one sale on steroids and cheap suits.

The three men moved closer. The back of my neck prickled.

“Keep your guard up, Leo,” I said under my breath.

“No shit, Sherlock,” he grumbled, but he stiffened his spine and looked poised to reach for the gun concealed beneath his jacket.

“Easy, fratello. Keep your head clear.”

Leo breathed out in one slow huff, but his eyes widened just a little as they settled on the lead guy.

“An old friend?” I asked quietly enough to keep the conversation between the two of us.

“Yeah, a real piece of work. Don’t trust him, Dom.” Leo clenched his jaw.

“No shit, Sherlock,” I parroted back.

The trio came to a stop three yards away.

The prickle at the back of my neck felt like needles poking into my skin. Something wasn’t right. It was all I could do to keep from shooting all three of the motherfuckers and calling it a day.

The lead guy nodded to me then turned to Leo.

“Cute mutt, Leo,” he joked with an ugly, toothy grin. His teeth were yellowed, and it looked like his incisors had been filed down into wicked points. “Got yourself a new girlfriend?”

My hands clenched tight, and I could feel blood throbbing in my temples. Nobody spoke to a Luca that way. Ever. Someone needed to teach them some manners.

Don’t kill him. Don’t kill him. I repeated the silent mantra over and over again, resisting the urge to put a bullet right between the fucker’s eyes. My father’s orders had been to make the trade, no mention of teaching these lowlifes a lesson.

I unclenched my fists.

Maybe today wasn’t his day, but no one disrespected a Luca and lived to tell the story.

“Where’s Alejandro?” I asked between gritted teeth. Alejandro was a piece of shit, but the devil I knew was better than the devil I didn’t.

The guy smiled. Damn, what fun it would have been to yank those ridiculous incisors right out of his mouth.

“Alejandro’s been… retired,” he said, crossing his meaty arms over his chest and dangling the beat-up briefcase from one finger. “I’m the new point man for the Free Birds now. Just think of me as the new team mascot.”

I’d take Bullet as a mascot over this guy any day. “And does the Free Birds’ new mascot have a name?”

“You can call me Jimmy.”

“All right, Jimmy. As soon as I have the cash in hand, the two trucks in the warehouse are all yours. But you tell Belemonte, the next time he changes his point man, he better tell me about it first.”

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