Free Long Live the King (An Italian Mafia Romance Duet #2) by Ws Greer Page A

out it had over a million dollars in it, it sounds like bullshit to me. It sounds like you stole my fucking money, and that’s exactly what he’s gonna think.”
    “Dominic,” Tommy chimes in, “we had everybody look everywhere before we even called you. We tried to find it. We scoured the whole fucking city and couldn’t find it. Whoever took it may have ran with it outside the city.”
    “Oh wonderful!” I yell, faking excitement. “That makes me feel much better, Tommy, thank you for your fucking input!”
    The room goes silent, because they all know this is about to get bad. They all have looks of worry on their faces, but worry isn’t what I feel. It just looks to me like the war between us and the Chicago Outfit is unavoidable now. I’m not afraid of it. In fact, if Alannah had never come back to St. Louis, I’d welcome it. But she is here, and I never forget that it’s her I have to protect. I have to live for her.
    “Frankie,” I snip. “Call Giovanni.”
    “Okay. Now?” Frankie asks, looking unsure, which bothers me more than it probably should.
    “Yes, now ! We have to buy more time, and the longer we wait, the more it looks like we’re just making this shit up. Right now, it’s early in the day, so tell them something important came up and we can’t spare the bodies to make the delivery today. Tell them we have the extra money, and we’ll bring it as soon as we resolve our problem.”
    “Okay, but what if he asks what the problem is?”
    “Don’t fucking tell him. This is Giordano family business.”
    Everyone in the room looks anxious, but it’s our only option right now. We have to make Victor believe that we’re ready to bring the truck and money, but we can’t because we have important family business going on. If he calls our bluff and drives up here himself, then so be it, we’ll go to war. If he shows up in my city, I’ll put a bullet in his brain through his ear.
    Frankie goes over to the bar where our landline is and dials Giovanni’s number. The rest of us sit at the table in anticipation listening to the conversation, and it doesn’t sound like it’s going well. Frankie tries to explain that we have an emergency that requires all of our attention, and I can tell Giovanni asked what it is, because Frankie is stumbling over his words like he has a stuttering problem. He apologizes one too many times, and the next thing I know, he’s looking back at me, holding the phone in my direction.
    “Victor wants to talk to you.”
    Everyone in the room looks at me like I’m being sent to the principal’s office as I stand up, set my cigar in my marble ash tray, and saunter to the phone.
    “Victor,” I say as I place the phone to my ear. I don’t sit on the stool at the bar next to me, because I don’t expect this conversation to last long.
    “Where’s my money, Dominic?” Victor inquires in his low, raspy voice.
    As soon as I hear his tone, I’m immediately reminded of how I felt when Frankie and I were at his warehouse. I hear the same condescending tone I heard yesterday, and it still pisses me the fuck off.
    “I’ve got a problem that requires my attention, Victor,” I reply, feeling my defensive walls going up. “It requires our attention, so the delivery will have to wait.”
    “I’ll have to wait,” I hear him repeat as if he’s telling someone who’s not on the line. I can just see the smug look on his face as he repeats my words to Giovanni. “Tell me, what is this big issue that requires the attention of everyone in your family, including the people who stole my truck and money?”
    “Oh you know, it’s just that one issue that isn’t any of your fucking business, because it’s mine,” I fire back. My patience levels are at an all-time low with Victor and his arrogance. “We have your money, including the interest you put on it, but since you’re so far away, bringing it to you isn’t at the top of my priority list right now.”
    The looks on