Page 34 of Savage Roses
Definitely meant to intimidate.
My grin goes nowhere. I hold out my arms in welcome.
“Gentlemen, how nice of you to join us. I wasn’t aware my father wanted to see my latest project. Say hello to Armen. He’s the architect associated with Kurchoff Konstruction. You remember him, right? He’s a favorite of Lucius's. I’ve hired him personally to—”
“This project is over,” interrupts De Trolio. “The Boss wants to remind you the club is not your operation to run at your behest. Any major business decisions are to be submitted to him for approval. You are also not cleared to hire his private contractors without checking with him first.”
Armen wipes sweat off his brow with his forearm despite the fact it’s chilly and November. “I… I was only surveying the site. No contracts have been signed.”
“You will be dealt with later,” De Trolio scolds, hardly sparing him a glance.
“I don’t agree,” I say.
Nobody knows how to follow up. A second passes before De Trolio grits his teeth and his unplucked, hairy unibrow dips into an even deeper V.
“You don’t agree with what?”
I stick my hands in my pockets and shrug. “Every word you’ve said.”
“It doesn’t matter if you agree. The Boss—”
“I have no boss.”
“So, it’s true,” he sneers. He glances behind him at the crew he’s brought with him. “The Boss’s son really is a cocky dumbass who thinks he can beat out the rest of the family.”
The other men chuckle along with him like trained chimps. I don’t expect any better. They’re not the A team. They’re not even the fucking B team. These guys areC stringat best.
Just like Lucius to underestimate me.
De Trolio and I have mostly stayed out of each other’s way, though he’s on my kill list. He’s been a brown-nosing kiss ass for as long as I can remember. I’ll never forget the times he hung around puffing on cigars and chugging brandy in the den while Lucius cracked jokes about the times he roughed me up.
Sometimes he showed up for these gatherings with the blood still on his knuckles.
My blood.
I wouldn’t mind returning the favor during this quest for revenge—test out if he thinks it’s so funny when he’s the one spilling blood on the floor…
“You’re outnumbered. Not to mentionoutranked,” he says. “You and your two pals stand the fuck down and shut the fuck up.Capeesh?”
“It would appear that way, but being at a disadvantage has never stopped me before. Nevertheless, please pass along a message to my father. I am no longer a part of his organization. Neither are my men. Neither are any of my operations. He has one of two options.Hecan stand the fuck down and shut the fuck up about it.Orhe can face the consequences.”
At my threat, De Trolio and the other men bust up in laughter. They throw their heads back and the air rings with the sounds of their laughs as though I’ve told the funniest joke they’ve heard in a while.
Armen’s hanging somewhere in between. Fabio and Omar still flank me, stoic and loyal.
I wait for them to finish.
“Are we done, gentlemen?” I ask when their laughter dies out. “We have a project to continue.”
“Your funeral,Psycho,” De Trolio spits. He holds his cell phone up to his ear with a nasty grin, as though I’m supposed to plead for him not to place his call. The other line answers within a few rings. “Boss, he’s not standing down. What should we do with him?”
Seconds pass as Lucius speaks on the other end. I can almost hear his croak of displeasure. Probably pissed with a vein throbbing in his temple.
It’s almost noon. I’ve ruined his lunch. Good thing he can stand to miss a few.
“There’s only him, Grebano, and Lisi. Yeah, he only has two guys as backup.” De Trolio spends another moment laughing at my expense.
This time, I interrupt him with a clear of my throat. “I’d count again. You might’ve missed a few.”