Page 18 of Devious Roses
Fabio fumbles to a stop outside my office door. “And what about the two downstairs?”
“Send them up. I’m not in the fucking mood. It’s fucking Valentine’s Day for fuck’s sake! I should be with my wife right now!”
My temper explodes opening the door to my office. A thunderous growl ejects from the deepest part of my chest and reverberates in the air. I slam the door and shake the walls. I snatch a couple knives from my display, hurling them at the dart board across the room.
Rage pulses through me, burning hot and out of control. I need to break something.Someone.
I should be at Ostra enjoying a nice, fulfilling dinner with my wife. I had hired a private string quartet to play for her and had arranged dozens of red roses to make her smile. We were going to end the night in the grand suite at the Northam Plaza Hotel, where I’d give her so much pleasure, she’d be delirious from coming so damn hard.
Instead, I’m here, dealing with these dipshits.
I roar again and fling another knife at the dartboard. If the situation wasn’t as dire as it is, I’d say fuck it and leave it for tomorrow.
But tensions have escalatedagain. A Kozlov killed a Giancola.
Bloodshed is never a good thing between families.
Knuckles tap against the door and then it opens. Omar pops his head in to inform me he’s brought Vladimir and Nick up. I give a nod, my face a composed slate of cold steel.
A moment later, both bosses enter looking equally furious.
I don’t give a single fuck how pissed they are—nothing compares to the level of fury that’s coursing through me. They’re going to get their shit together here and now, orIwill make them both pay.
I pin them both with a venomous glare. “Tell me what the fuck is wrong now. Make it fucking short. Twenty words or less.”
“I was lied to!” Kozlov exclaims. “I was told a five percent cut only!”
“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is!” Giancola shouts over him. “You’re a paranoid fucker that doesn’t know what the hell you’re talking about—I only got five, jackass! Then you’ve got your guys shooting at my guys! Guess what,cazzo? I will fuck you up myself!”
“Is that a threat? You go ahead and make an attempt!” Kozlov steps toward Giancola, his movements dangerous and robotic at the same time.
Giancola doesn’t back down. He balls his hands into fists and shouts at Kozlov to test him.
“Shut the fuck up!” I bark at them, tossing the last knife in my grasp. It slices through the air, cutting a direct path in between where they stand facing each other. It lands with athwackin the bullseye of my dartboard.
Both men shift their attention my way, shocked I’d throw a knife so close to them.
“Keep testing me,” I growl. “I will slit both your fucking throats just to shut you the fuck up!”
Kozlov’s lip curls in contempt. Giancola fumes, breathing hard, fists still balled.
I come out from behind my desk and challenge them, man-to-man. “I’ve been too fucking lenient. I see it now. That’s been a fucking mistake if there ever was one. Here I was, thinking we could all get along on some Kumbaya shit. But allow me to make myself clear—I won’t tolerate in-fighting among the Five Families. So, you have one of two options. You settle this shit in a civilized manner, like civilized men. Or I will interject and settle this shit in a barbaric manner, like the fucking psycho I am. You choose right now.”
Giancola folds first. He uncurls his fists and shoots Kozlov a bitter glance. “I didn’t have no beef. I’ve been accused of shit. That’s all. He killed one of my guys!”
“Yourguygot killed because you stole what was mine!”
“I did no such thing!”
“ENOUGH!” I glare from Giancola to Kozlov. “This is the last time I’m telling you. I don’t give a shit who was shorted or who was shot. This ends here or I will end the both of you—”
The crackling eruption of gunfire drowns out the last of my words.
Somebody’s shooting up the place.
“Shit!” I draw my gun from where it’s holstered and run toward the door.
The shots are coming from downstairs. Terrified screams and the pounding noise of people stampeding out of the club follow.