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Inside the high-ceilinged study in one of the mansions in Vincent Stone's estate, he poured a glass of liquor, the ice clinking like a threat. His views never left the man across from him.
"I don't like waiting, Mr. Petrov," Vincent spoke, tone down. "Not when I'm delivering cartons of death that cost more than your life."
Petrov, a fat-necked Eastern European in a tiny trench coat, moved in his seat. "The docks are being observed strictly. If you need the firearms to land safely in Italy, we must wait until it's less risky."
Vincent twirled his liquor, then downed it in one gulp. "You keep watching while I move."
Barefoot, Evelyn Stone hurried quietly through the passage, her black hair buried beneath a silk headscarf. She ran her fingers along the cold surfaces, trailing with her senses conscious. She wasn't supposed to be up by this hour of the day.
But she had discovered long ago that in her world, you had to steal the truth if you wanted it. She wanted to know about every deal in her father's clan.
Without making a sound, she stopped by the door where her father was in a meeting with Petrov. She caught sight of her father leaning back through a small crevice, his jaw clenched tight. That was one of those deals going on. She recognized the expression on her father's face. The one before blood, which means he's suspecting the man he's dealing with, and is also angry.
"I want the names of those delaying my shipment. And I want them while they're bleeding." Vincent barked.
Evelyn's breath caught, hearing those words. This seems like one of the bloody deals her father had been involved in. It sounds more than a mere shipment.
She was about to sneak downstairs, where another meeting was being held. Her Uncle, Dmitri Stone, was meeting with the Romano family, a rival gang, for the first time in ten years. And then the hallway's lights began to flicker. Then the power went off.
Everywhere was sucked up by darkness. With her heart hammering her ribs, she slowly retreated from the door.
********
The meeting room downstairs was a tense place. None of them noticed the light had gone out upstairs. The Stone and Romano families had not sat at the same table for ten years. But tonight, they had to. Salvador Romano has finally realized he can't do without Vincent Stone after he had lost too much to incompetent hands. His shipments had been compromised since his only connection had been taken down. Now, he has decided to swallow his pride and ally with Vincent Stone, who controls New York as if he owned it.
The place had mixed smells, the smoke of cigars, and secrets. Staying around the edge, serious-faced and heavily armed fellows protected the two families.
Don Salvatore Romano drew slowly from his cigar, his gaze fixed on Dmitri Stone, Vincent Stone's brother, who sat opposite him like a sleeping bear, silent and watching. Tall and quiet, Luca Romano stood by his father's side, his arms crossed and suit spotless.
In matching charcoal suits, Dmitri's sons, Sergei and Ivan, leaned back comfortably in their chairs. They had been whispering ever since they entered.
Finally, in a gravelly voice, Salvatore said, "Let's stop dancing. We need each other, and that's why we are here. Next week, my ships will arrive. 50 crates. Superior Balkan weapons. Untraceable and clean. I want a smooth landing, and you know that's where you come in."
"And in return?" Dmitri smiled.
"Ceasefire between the two families." Your men stay east, and ours stay west. Our shipments come in without a hitch, and yours do too. There are no bodies in the river or abrupt movements.
"Ours has always been landing safely. Could you please say precisely what you want? peace?" Ivan sneered.
Salvatore squinted his eyes. "I won't call it peace, but rather a business. We both make money; that way, neither of us buries a son."
Luca spoke in a firm, low voice, leaning in a little. "Sergei, you too have enemies around your routes; A war between us and them is possible. So don't act like you don't need us."
"We have dealt with worse." Sergei shrugged.
"You've survived worse. A distinction exists." Luca corrected.
To keep his sons quiet, Dmitri held up a hand. He pounded the table once with his thick fingers. "You want an alliance with us because Victor, your only connection, was taken down. You want our connections working for you. It's like you're asking us to make you members of our family. What will stop you from betraying us?"
Salvatore's smile was thin. "The reality that you need us just as much as we need you."
Dmitri sat back. "Reality, Salvatore is a funny word. It does not exist in our world."
"Then we refer to it as mutual leverage."
There's a hold-up as if the room held its breath.
Dmitri then gave a gloomy laugh. "I'll take your offer into account. But I'm looking for more."
"More?" Salvatore's eyebrows went up.
"Loyalty, sealed by blood." A union between your son and my niece." Dmitri declared.
Luca's jaw tightened. Salvatore's fingers hesitated on his cigar. "That's not necessary," Salvatore remarked icily.
"Necessary," said Dmitri. Blood has a stronger binding power than contracts. I have an obedient niece. She's gorgeous, and she will not meddle.
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