Page 109 of Till Death Do Us Part

Gerardo was the least happy about my emergency meeting. In his defense, he had the farthest to travel, I hadn’t given him the option of declining, and taking orders from me was not his strong suit. After what we’d learned over the last few days, his presence was mandatory. This meeting had to take place with the attendance of the men congregating in my home. That included our personal guards. There was little that they didn’t know. That was why I also asked for their presence.

Andrés and Em brought Sergio. Nicolas and Nick brought Carlos. Gerardo brought Ángel. I recalled he was the one who drove Mia all day and never spoke English. He didn’t look any happier to be here than Gerardo. Rei, Felipe, Diego, and Silas were also present.

“Sit,” I said, gesturing toward the long dining room table as our meeting progressed in Spanish. I remained standing. “The Roríguez cartel is being attacked.”

“Down here. Things are good up north,” Gerardo grumbled, leaning back and crossing his arms.

Andrés and Nicolas quickly refuted their brother, naming a series of incidents that had occurred in our northern region as well. I stood back for a moment until voices became raised.

“This isn’t about who’s doing what. When Andrés’s home was invaded, we stood together and delivered a loud message to Ivan Kozlov. We waited for him to retaliate. Fuck, we’d delivered three of his men to his personal property in pieces. Instead of going after our men, he retaliated against our women.”

“Whores,” Nicolas said.

“Women,” I repeated. “They work for us. We’re responsible for them.”

“You can always get more,” Gerardo said. He laughed. “I can send down a few from up north. Checked them out myself. Three willing holes.”

My gaze met Rei’s, Em’s and Nick’s. They were seated at the kitchen bar, away from their fathers, uncles, and guards, facing us. The younger men had clenched jaws and stern expressions. It wasn’t a secret that there was an ongoing clash between the two generations.

“How did Kozlov learn about the new housing for the women?” I asked. When no one responded, I continued. “Who shared that information?”

“It could have been any of the soldiers on the street,” Andrés said. “Word spreads fast when there’s a shake-up.” He shrugged. “Change causes resistance.”

“And the soldiers give a shit where whores live?” Rei asked, walking toward the table, and leaning against the wall between the closed glass doors.

“It’s not only the whores,” Gerardo said. “It’s other changes. My men report to me. My brothers haven’t complained, but they should. You’ve come up here, overruling the only real bosses the soldiers have known.”

“Mi padreis the real boss, the one they’ve known.”

“Knownof,” Gerardo said. “Yes, Jorge is the boss, but you can’t expect men to treat you with respect when you haven’t earned it. The men talk.”

Though my expression remained unchanged, the small hairs at the base of my neck stood to attention. “I see. You’re blaming the fire at the apartments on our own soldiers?”

“No,” Andrés and Nicolas said at the same time.

“Which is it? Our soldiers are at fault because they don’t respect me, or our soldiers are at fault because they talk?”

“Ja-no,” Nicolas said in a pacifying tone and cadence.

That tenor pissed me off more than Gerardo’s blatant disrespect.

“Men talk,” Nicolas went on. “They’re on the streets, in the hideouts, on assignments. The bratva men are on the same streets. Fuck, the whores themselves could have said something to the wrong customer, one associated with the bratva. That one customer goes back and tells Kozlov he has intel to share. There’s no way to know. The fucking Russians found out. It happens.”

“Four women were killed.”

Gerardo stood, scooting back his chair. “Tell me, son. Did you really call this emergency meeting to discuss dead whores? Because if you did, I wasted cartel profits on a plane and fuel. And ruined an evening I could be spending with my new wife.”

“Sit down, Gerardo.”

At the sound of my command, the room grew deathly silent as the older man stared my direction. I took a step toward Gerardo with my fingers itching for the handle of my knife. Gritting my teeth, I took another step. “Sit down or back up your words.”

At his side, Ángel flinched, ready to attack me. Hatred shone like beacons in his eyes.

Gerardo laid his hand on Ángel’s shoulder and retook his seat.

I resumed my position, standing near the end of the table. “Today’s attack was different. The soldiers didn’t know our plan.”

“The fucking famiglia did,” Gerardo said. “You talked to Luciano. You know they can’t keep a secret.”