He chuckles. “Okay. Why did you drink so much last night?”
“When did we turn into a bunch of bitches who sit around and talk about shit? Is Mia taking your man card, Lo?” I quip back.
He grunts. Then something flies back and hits me on my head.
“Ow. What the fuck?” I pick up the pen he chucked at me.
“You’re lucky it was only a pen. Don’teverdisrespect Mia again.”
Lo’s light tone has turned dark, a sign of the devil inside. Bash turns and glares at me.
“Don’t disrespect any of the girls. You know better.”
I grunt. “Sorry. I didn’t mean them. I mean women in general.” Bash continues to glare, so I clear my throat as I continue. “I mean, it won’t happen again.”
“Good, now why did you get wasted last night?” Bash commands rather than asks.
“I would rather not talk about it.”
“If it’s going to affect your work and your ability to do what you need to for this family, you will talk about it.”
“It was a one-time thing. It won’t happen again.”
“Does it have to do with Isabella?”
“I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it. It won’t happen again. Drop it.” I turn and look out the window, trying to lessen the anger that fills me. It’s not until something smacks me across the back of my head that I turn back.
“I let you slide with a lot, cousin, but don’t you forget who I am. You will not speak to me that way no matter where we are. Whatever’s going on with Isabella, figure it the fuck out. I don’t know why she hates you as much as she does, but if she wants you to leave her alone, do it. I let you have time, but this ends now. Forget her and focus on your work.”
I want to glare at him. I want to tell him Izzy is mine and I will do what I damn well please. I want to defy him, but I know if I do, he will not hesitate to kill me. I might be his cousin and one of his closest friends, but he’s still our don and he will still put the family first. That is the life.
Hell, it’s why Izzy hates me in the first place.
I sigh and bow my head slightly. “Sorry, Don Bastiano,” I say, properly chastised. “I heard your command and will respect it.”
Even if it kills me.
∞∞∞
“Mr. O’Reilly. Thank you for meeting with us,” Bash says as the man is escorted into the room.
For the past couple of months, the drug sales in the boroughs have soared. Prior to Bash taking over, the Catalini family allowed the Albanians to deal in the boroughs with strict rules. The surge is concerning, especially when children are becoming involved.
I stand by the door and watch as the man takes a seat on the other side of the table. Lo stands behind Bash while two of O’Reilly’s men take similar positions.
Killian O’Reilly, head of the Westies, the Irish mob residing on the west side of Manhattan.Head of the New York branch of the Irish Mob. Everyone has a section of business they deal in. While we deal in clubs and protection, they deal in arms trafficking and drugs. Sometimes our paths cross, but usually we keep separate.
“Of course. Sorry it has taken so long, Mr. Catalini. It seems life has gotten in the way for both of us. Congratulations on your marriage. I will be sure to send a gift.”
I watch Bash’s reaction. Only the family has been notified of the marriage. How he found out so soon is a mystery—one that will be solved. Bash doesn’t physically react, but he doesn’t need to. I know him. I know what he’s thinking.
“Thank you. Shall we move on to business?”
“Of course. What prompted this visit today?”
A visit with the Irish means neutral ground. So today, we meet in Hell’s Kitchen, where the Irish headquarters is, but in a restaurant where we know the family who owns it. They shut it down for us, but they’re not directly related to either family.
It’s as neutral as you can get.
