by Bethany-Kris
He was locking her in.
Like a fucking animal.
“I’ll give you another thing to consider as well that goes along with the first offer,” Joel added, still smiling in that sickening way of his. “Something else for you to think about while you walk the halls for a week or two.”
“Don’t bother,” Abriella spat.
The heat in her tone couldn’t be hidden. She didn’t care anymore. She wanted her brother to know how much she despised him and what he was doing. He was going to put her into a proverbial corner and force her hand into somehow hurting Tommas. Joel was making goddamn sure his plans, whatever they were, wouldn’t be spoiled.
What more could he fucking do?
“Oh, you might like this one,” Joel replied. “Freedom, Ella. I’ll give it to you.”
Abriella’s brow crumpled. “Freedom.”
“I’ll give you tickets to wherever you want to go, I’ll sign over every red cent of your inheritance for you to use whatever way you wish, and you can leave. Go out of Chicago, start somewhere new, or whatever you want to do.”
“In exchange for what?”
Joel shrugged. “In exchange for giving me what I want.”
Abriella knew exactly what her brother wanted. It was the same thing he had always wanted.
To be the boss.
“Think about it,” Joel said quietly.
“What if I won’t go along with your … whatever this is?”
“It’s like this, Ella, either one person can go, or a bunch of them can. I want to make this as easy as possible, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be painless. It isn’t my fault that you’ve gotten yourself tangled up with a man that you had no business being with. If your feelings got involved, it was by your choice, not mine.”
Her chest ached from her heart beating so fast.
This wasn’t fair.
“Those aren’t options at all, Joel,” Abriella hissed. “You’re going to trick Tommas with me. You’re an asshole.”
“I think the options are perfectly fine. Simple, even. You only have to make a choice. Lose one person, hurt for a while, but have the freedom to eventually move on. Or, try to save that one person in some way, and this nonsense will continue until everyone is dead in the ground.”
Abriella clenched her teeth. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because as someone once told me, this life isn’t about getting what you want, Ella. You can’t have what you want just because you said so.”
More confused than ever, Abriella met her brother’s cold gaze from across the table. She knew he must be angry, but he hid it far too well. This wasn’t the Joel she thought she knew. The Joel she knew was a vile man in his own right. This man was even worse. This was someone else entirely.
“The last time you caught me with a man, you barely held back from beating me black and blue,” Abriella said, sneering. “What’s changed?”
Joel glanced down at his plate. “You made me feel like a fool. There’s no question that I would like to show you exactly how whores like you should be treated, but I can’t. There’s something I need from you, Ella. All you have to do is give me what I have asked for, and the rest will go away. This is mine—the Outfit, the families. They’re mine.”
Her heart for his.
The truth burned as she swallowed it down.
“Think about it all,” Joel said quietly. “You have time. Starting now.”
Abriella didn’t get the chance to ask her brother another thing. Darryl came out of nowhere from behind her, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her up from the chair. The last thing she saw in the dining room before she was dragged from it cursing and kicking was a two-fingered wave from Joel.
She smacked Darryl hard in the side of the face. The man’s eyes flashed with anger and his grip turned painful.
“Let me go!”
“Stop it, or you’ll get a taste of your own medicine, you little bitch,” the enforcer snarled.
Abriella chose to stop fighting. Not because she was weak or had given up, but because she needed a plan. Joel was right. She needed time to think.
More than anything, Abriella felt like she was out of options that she could control.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Ten minutes,” Damian said, looking down at his watch.
Tommas still checked the time on the dashboard even knowing that his cousin was right. “It’s been a rough year, man.”
Damian’s gaze drifted from Tommas in the driver’s seat, to the windy, quiet Chicago street outside of the car. “It has been, you’re right.”
“I’ll be happy to put an end to it all.”
“Have you seen or talked to Abriella at all?” Damian asked.
“No,” Tommas answered, offering little else.
The nagging anxiety in his chest refused to relent whenever he thought about his girl, however. It bothered him more than he could explain that Abriella hadn’t contacted him since the last time they spoke.
Sure, he’d told her that they needed to keep a safe distance for obvious reasons, but the thing about Abriella was that she didn’t follow the rules very well.
Still, no calls.
Concerned about his lover, but knowing there wasn’t much he could do but wait, Tommas decided to let it all work out on its own. He didn’t have a choice either way.
“Tommy?”
“What?”
Damian sighed, shooting his cousin a look from the side. “You know it doesn’t have to go down like this, right? You don’t have to do it this way, man.”
“Conceding isn’t always losing,” Tommas murmured. “Sometimes, smart men have to play a game in such a way that conceding is the only possible option in the end. It’s what Joel wants, anyway. For me to concede to this arrangement. He’s looking for that, and he must have a reason for it. It’s a safer way to win right now, D. Nothing more.”
“And what about in a few months?”
“What about it?”
“When Joel decides he’s tired of having the city split into two organizations, or when he tries another bomb episode on you again. What if he wins then, huh?”
Tommas smiled, and waved his cousin’s concerns off. “You should learn to trust me more.”
“I’m trying really hard, but you make it difficult when you go on to do something like this with Joel Trentini, Tommas.”
Damian had not been happy at all to hear about the offer Joel laid on the table for Tommas to consider a week and a half ago. In fact, Damian might as well have called Tommas a fool for even agreeing to a sit-down with Joel to discuss separating the Outfit into two new organizations with separate bosses on both sides.
“Trust,” Tommas repeated. “It will take you everywhere with me.”
“Easy for you to say, Tommy.”
“I’m not an idiot. I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s the whole problem. I have no idea what you’re doing.”
“You don’t need to,” Tommas replied quietly.
Damian rubbed at his forehead, obviously tired and over the conversation. “What have you been doing these last couple of weeks, anyway?”
Planning.
Considering.
Deciding.
“Making the right choice,” Tommas settled on saying. “Even if that choice isn’t what everyone else might choose or want to see happen. Sometimes the right decision is often the hardest and most difficult.”
And bloody, he added silently.
“I hope, for everyone’s sake, that you’re right in doing this with Joel,” Damian said.
“But you don’t think I am.”
“No, I think you’re giving up, and you’re so much fucking better than that, Tommas.”
With that statement, Damian got out of the Jaguar and slammed the passenger door hard enough to rock the car. Tommas watched his cousin stroll down the street in the direction of where the sit-down would take place in just a few short minutes.
Tommas di
dn’t blame Damian.
No one really knew much about what would happen today other than what Tommas offered to tell. It wasn’t a lot. He’d invited Capos to sit in and watch. He’d asked for the Capos to bring whoever they felt comfortable with having along for the ride, as this day would be a valuable lesson to everyone involved.
Tommas decided to have it go down this way, because he wanted a point to be made. He wanted the Outfit people to see how things should be handled in la famiglia when wars happened.
Scores had to be settled. Sometimes it was bloody, but not every time.
“How was the last couple of weeks?” Joel asked.
Tommas spread his arms wide, allowing Joel’s man to pat him down and check all through his coat, his pants pockets, and wherever else the man felt necessary. “Quiet, actually.”
“Nice, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Tommas agreed. “It’s been too long since the streets were peaceful.”
“It has been a while,” Joel said, smiling falsely.
The man checking him moved down to a crouch so he could check Tommas’ legs. His hands slid a little too high for Tommas’ liking.
“Do you want a handful of my cock?” Tommas asked the guy.
The enforcer cleared his throat. “No.”
“Then let me help you out.” Tommas brushed his pant legs with his hands, clearly showing he had no weapon at his groin. Then, he grabbed his dick through his slacks and said, “Just this in here, sorry.”
Joel chuckled. “Always good for a show, old friend.”
Tommas looked to Damian. “And?”
“He’s clean,” Damian said. “Checked him myself. Checked all the guys he brought. They’re good as well. The street is clean of people. No one will be outside waiting. It’s … good, boss.”
Joel’s nostrils flared at Damian’s casual offer of the boss title to Tommas. It didn’t escape Tommas’ notice how Joel quickly tampered down his reaction to hide it.
“And her?” Tommas asked, tilting his head toward Abriella.
Tommas had done all he could to ignore his lover since he’d walked down the street to see her and Joel getting out of a black town car together. It didn’t surprise him that Joel had brought Abriella along.
Even when Joel was attempting something worthy of peace, he still liked to play mind games. How Abriella factored into those games, Tommas wasn’t sure.
Abriella, on the other hand, had kept her head down and she stayed quiet. She wouldn’t even meet Tommas’ stare when he blatantly asked about her. His fingers itched and ached to reach out and grab Abriella to bring her close.
Why was she looking at the fucking ground?
She wasn’t smiling—that was never good.
Tommas forced his hands to stay at his sides, and dragged his attention from his lover so that his worries weren’t so goddamn obvious.
“She’s good,” Damian said, shrugging. “Nothing on her, Tommy.”
“Good,” Tommas said. “Everyone is inside?”
“The Capos and a few of their middle men, yes.”
Joel passed a glance at the restaurant that was in desperate need of an overhaul on the outside. Chips of paint fell on the pavement, one window could use a replacement, and the old door spoke of years past.
“Who does this place belong to?” Joel asked.
“Me,” Tommas answered. “I bought it this week. Someone I know has a taste for seafood. I wanted to be able to enjoy it with them when it was up and running again. For now, it’ll serve its purpose of getting us through this meeting without drawing attention from the police or anyone else. Your men checked it out earlier, didn’t they?”
Joel nodded. “Sure.”
“And?”
“And you already know,” Joel said. “There was nothing to find.”
“I’m being amicable, Joel. This is what you wanted.”
“Then let’s do it, old friend.”
Tommas really wished Joel would lay off the ‘old friend’ nonsense. It was tiring. It was untrue and ridiculous. A certain understanding between men did not make for a friendship, and they certainly didn’t have much to be friendly about now.
“Yes, let’s do that,” Tommas said, waving toward the quiet restaurant.
Damian grabbed the door and pulled it open, allowing others to walk in ahead of him. During the entire conversation and check outside, Tommas had felt the eyes of more than a dozen people inside the restaurant watching him and Joel.
No doubt, he probably knew exactly what they were thinking.
How was this going to end?
Are the rumors true?
Is it over?
Tommas hoped he could answer all three of those questions before the meeting was out.
Joel stepped in ahead of Tommas, and Abriella followed quietly behind her brother. Moving behind Joel, Tommas joined in.
“Wait a sec,” came an older voice from behind them.
Finally, Abriella lifted her head. A familiar fire colored up her blue eyes, instantly making Tommas feel at home, even if they were anywhere but safe, quiet, and together. His girl was there, but she was doing what she had to do—whatever it was.
“Dad?” Abriella asked, seeing her father standing outside of the restaurant.
“I thought you weren’t coming inside with us?” Joel asked, moving his sister aside so he could talk to his step-father.
Peter Trentini gave Tommas a passing glance as he said, “I haven’t changed my mind, Joel. I have no reason to go inside with you today. I drove here, showed my face, and that’s more than enough. I buried my wife for this, and that was too much.”
“Well, what are you doing?” Joel barked.
The older man waved a handbag, decked out with the faces of Abriella’s favorite Sugar Skulls. It was just a clutch, nothing big.
“Abriella forgot this in the car. I just happened to notice it.”
Peter passed the bag into Abriella’s hand. Tommas took note of the way her brow crumpled in question, but she stayed quiet when Joel glared down at her. Tommas beat back the urge to slap Joel just at the sight alone.
“Thank you,” Abriella said softly.
“Never go anywhere without your purse,” Peter said, chuckling. “That’s what your mother always said.”
“We’re wasting time,” Joel muttered.
Joel and Abriella disappeared inside the restaurant without a goodbye to their father. Tommas offered Peter a nod that was subtly returned.
A thank you of sorts.
“It’s too bad the restaurant isn’t open for business,” Joel noted. “It would have been nice to have a meal.”
“I’ll save a spot for you on opening night,” Tommas said.
Joel smiled. “I’ll see to it that you make sure of it.”
Sure he would.
Settled into one of the many tables and chairs in the middle of the room, Tommas watched his rival from across the way. Abriella, poised as ever, sat pretty and quiet beside her brother. The men around them, the major players in the Outfit, watched the scene unfold with rapt attention and closed mouths.
Thankfully.
The less issues this meeting was met with, the better.
Tommas took note of the people sitting at various tables with their people. Theo DeLuca had brought along a couple of guys Tommas recognized from the DeLuca crew. Damian had asked for two of his men to tag along and help with checking Joel’s men and to watch the outside of the restaurant. Adriano Conti, typically calm and reserved, sat in the far corner with three men at his table and looking like the restaurant was the last place he wanted to be.
Adding the couple of men Tommas brought, and the guys who tagged along with Joel, the restaurant was full.
“I’d like to get this over as quickly as possible,” Joel started to say, glancing up at Tommas.
“As would I.”
“Good. Semantics, right? That’s what this whole thing is. We’ll get the main point of it all out there for everyone to know wha
t’s going to happen. We’ll decide which Capo and territory belongs to you or I. Simple, Tommas.”
It could be.
Tommas didn’t believe it would be.
“Separate the organization into two entities,” Tommas said, drumming his fingers on the table. “That’s what you wanted.”
“Yes.”
“What about the Commission? They’ve only got enough room at the table for one boss from Chicago.”
Joel shrugged. “Our business hasn’t been tied to New York for years ever since the little disagreement we had with the Marcellos. Terrance kept his seat at the table simply for show and to be up-to-date with the happenings of the other families. It’s an unneeded process, in my opinion.”
Tommas disagreed entirely. The Commission was hugely important for building allies in other families, having a line of communication across the continent with other organizations, and some of their work was still tied up with places like Canada and Las Vegas.
What was Joel trying to prove?
“Someone needs to be at the Commission,” Tommas pointed out. “It’s not unneeded, as you said. It’s vital for all of the families to have that direct line to one another, Joel.”
“Then go to it,” Joel replied flippantly.
Go to it …
Tommas’ gaze cut to Abriella, who was also watching her brother curiously. He wondered what, if anything, she might know about her brother’s plans.
“I’ll go,” Tommas said.
“Good. The crews. Let’s break it up here and now.”
“DeLuca and Rossi crews are unquestionably mine,” Tommas said.
Abriella’s brow furrowed like she wanted to say something, but her lips pressed into a thin line like she was forcing herself to be quiet. She glanced between the two men at the table, waiting on her brother’s reply.
“Of course,” Joel finally said. “I wouldn’t assume differently.”
In the corner of the restaurant, Adriano Conti cleared his throat. “What about my crew, don’t I get a say in who I prefer to work under?”
Tommas chuckled at the sight of Joel’s narrowed gaze.
