Kyle’s brows lifted as he looked over at his little brother. For a minute he’d forgotten the man had come into the office with them, he’d been so quiet. But, then again, it wasn’t unusual for Mickey to ease away from ‘shop talk’—the man was an assassin. Other than family stuff, getting his next hit job was all Mickey really thought about.
“How about we stop talking about this war shit, and start talking about Kyle’s personal life?” the man grumbled.
“How the hell is a war not important?”
“Focus, Lucca,” Mickey yelled.
Carter’s soft laughter briefly caught Kyle’s attention and he had a bit of a chuckle himself, before Mickey regained his attention once again.
“I want to hear how your weekend went, Kyle,” Mickey said. “I need to know how well my advice worked for you.”
Kyle quirked a brow. “You referring to the trip you were supposed to keep under wraps?” he teased his little brother.
But Kyle wasn’t an idiot. He’d known telling Mickey meant telling the whole family. The man always tried his best, but he couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. Kyle found that out after the ‘Kyle’s secret baby’ revealing debacle he didn’t really like to remember. Only because he hated remembering a time when he’d been such a fucking prick that he hadn’t even wanted the best thing he had in his life; his little lady bug.
“I tried to keep it from these bastards, but they beat it out of me.”
Laughter erupted around the room.
“It didn’t take a fucking beating to get the secret out of you, Mickey.”
“They’re lying,” Mickey argued, raising his middle finger in their direction. “They locked me in your office for hours and made me,” his face screwed up in disgust, “work. And answer phone calls, and look at papers and shit. I’m not a fucking suit, Kyle. I can’t deal with that shit. I had no choice, they broke me.”
“Its all right, Mikilo,” Kyle laughed. “Calm yourself. I’m not angry.”
“You don’t look angry at all,” Carter said, drawing his attention to her.
She had a bright smile on her face as she stared over at him in obvious excitement.
“You look happy.”
Kyle nodded. “I am happy.”
Her excitement was as amusing as it was perfectly genuine, and heartfelt. No one could keep the smile from their face at the sound of her squeals, and the sight of her bouncy, animated enthusiasm.
“You’re happy?” she asked in a high-pitched tone.
Kyle laughed softly. “I’m very, very happy.”
She squealed at that, too.
And, of course, Kyle had to take it up a notch. “I’m also very in love …”
Her eyes widened as she squealed again, this time a little louder. “Oh my God.” She nodded her head up and down. “I’m in love with her, too.”
Kyle laughed.
“Isn’t she perfect?”
He nodded his head, finding it very hard not to be amused by her perfect reaction to all of this. “She’s stunning …”
Carter’s hands shot to her heart, right in time for the tears Kyle had been expecting to fill her eyes. “She is,” she whispered, delicately wiping away a fallen tear. “You son of a bitch, you made me cry.”
With perfectly feigned distress falling over his face, Kyle shook his head at her words. “Aww, no. You can’t cry yet, Carterina,” he said as innocently as he could, trying his best to fight against his sly smile. “I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.”
He didn’t hate doing this to her. Not in the slightest. He loved the woman deeply, but nothing in this world entertained him more than triggering all of the emotions that filled the crazy little woman. It fascinated him how one person could be as multifaceted as Carterina Anastacia Salerno. She didn’t make much sense, but just … did at the same time.
If her already widened eyes could have gotten any wider, Kyle was certain they would have as she stood across the room—hand still to her heart—staring up at him expectantly.
“What could possibly be better than you and Sofi’s Reanna falling in love?”
Smiling slyly, Kyle said the words that would surely shock the hell out of his entire family … well, all except Nathan of course.
“I’m getting married.”
Carter’s piercing scream tore through the air.
Chapter 18 Family
His brothers and Gabriel had rejoiced, hugged him, and given him proud ‘well done’ pats on his back. Carterina had wept, hugged him for the longest time as she sobbed and cried through an entire speech about how proud she was of him, and how far he’d come.
Kyle had gotten a chance to thank Mickey for being there for him when he hadn’t a clue about what the fuck he’d do to win over Reanna; he’d gotten to thank Nathan for being as available as he always was whenever Kyle had needed his advice the other night; then last, but certainly not least, he’d gotten to thank Carter. The list of shit the woman had done for him since the day he first met her in that little bar back in Hope Beach was a mile long by now, but she hadn’t wanted a thank you; she told him she hadn’t needed it. She explained that her actions had just been her supporting her god-daughter’s decision on whom she wanted as her mother. Sofia had chosen Reanna, and Carter’s help in that department had just been her wanting the best for both him, and Sofia. Now, she was happy she could—in her words—finally let go of her worry for him, for Sofia, because she now knew that they were in good hands … in Reanna’s hands.
It had been nice, finally having a chance to celebrate with his family like that. Kyle wasn’t used to having good shit to tell them … Happy shit. He wasn’t used to being the bearer of good news, and it had been a nice change, for once, not getting those famous concerned looks from his brothers … well, all except Nathan. Kyle had caught the slightest look of something on Nathan’s face before he’d hesitantly left Kyle’s office, and Kyle had tried to ask him what it was, or if there had been something wrong, but the man had simply shrugged him off, shaking his head and saying, “It’s nothing, brother.” Then he hugged Kyle, a bit too tightly for Kyle’s comfort, and told him how happy he was for him.
Yeah … Kyle was far from an idiot. Something was going on that Nathan was hesitant to tell him about—
“Valente, you’re obviously not ready to move forward with this deal. Maybe we should reschedule this call for a later date …”
Looking up from his thoughts, Kyle frowned. Shit. He needed to get his mind off of everything else and focus on work. There was no time for pleasant thoughts and happiness; not while he was on the phone with this jackass.
“No,” Kyle said, refocusing, and looking down at the document given to him by Gabriel today with a deep frown of frustration masking his face.
Like always, Don Bonaducci was fucking around with the Salerno Organization, and he was using his incompetent consigliere, David Mitchum, to do it. Kyle had already offered the family all he would a few weeks back, but as always, the greedy motherfuckers wanted more. They wanted shit that Kyle couldn’t give, wouldn’t give, and he was coming very close to doing exactly what his father had instructed him to do last week, what Kyle himself felt was impossible. Taking everything offered, and forcing the motherfuckers to sign a peace agreement without any perks.
That particular contract was actually the response that Kyle had had Gabriel type up over the weekend.
“You’ve been the one prolonging this, David.” Even with Kyle taking the time off that he had, it was indeed David who was holding up negotiations—dodging meetings, making outrageous and unrealistic demands, and refusing to stay on calls with Kyle for more than five minutes. It was obvious the fucker thought the Bonaducci had the upper hand in this, but he couldn’t be more wrong. “I’m not quite sure why you’d think it’s a good idea to stretch this out.”
“I’m not the one stretching this out, Valente. That would be you …”
There was an air of both arrogance and amusement in the m
an’s tone that caused Kyle’s inner serial killer to stir. He clenched his jaw tightly, fighting against the rage which was quickly overtaking him. He didn’t want to snap. No, that would only make the call last longer.
David continued. “I wanted this deal to be made days ago, but you’re too chicken shit to take my demands seriously and get your Don, as well as the French, to agree to them.”
See? The fucker was basically begging Kyle to reach through the phone and end his worthless fucking life.
“This peace agreement is about protecting the lives of the Bonaducci family,” Kyle reminded him. “You will do yourself a favor in remembering that, David. The Salerno Organization is uninterested in adhering to any demands given by you or your Don. I’ve told you what we are offering. Take it, and let’s be done with this.”
“That’s not going to happen, Valente. My boss will never accept this. All we get here is some worthless fucking territory and the promise of no retaliation? That’s not enough.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. In capable hands, that territory was far from worthless. But expecting this dumbass to know that would be too much. “Let’s not forget the hundreds of thousands you stole in the process of your attack, David. What we are giving is far more than you deserve.”
“I don’t think so. After Don Salerno assaulted, embarrassed, and stole thousands of dollars from Don Bonaducci, I believe we deserve much more.”
“We stole nothing. Your Don failed to pay his taxes in Salerno Territory. Manhattan business is expensive. Don Salerno took what was rightfully his.”
“But he still had no right to put his fucking hands on Eric! The other families are watching, you know. They see how rebellious the Salernos have become under Nathan’s rule.”
“Rebellious,” Kyle repeated.
“Yes, rebellious,” David said, his tone now becoming serious. “War with us isn’t what you want, Mr. Valente. Trust me. We have too much support for our position.”
“And what exactly is this position?” Kyle asked, interested in what the talk was regarding the situation between the two families.
For a moment there was nothing but silence over the phone, David’s hesitation to share the information was more than obvious to Kyle. Yet he waited the man out. He wanted to know exactly what was being said behind Nathan’s back. Not only that, but he needed to know who the fuck was saying it. Kyle wasn’t a fan of betrayal, and he sensed a shitload of it right about now.
After Nathan had first been named Don of the Salerno crime family at the Pascatorre dinner a little over three years ago, an overwhelming amount of New York’s crime families—both bigtime and small—were lining up to become his ally. They’d been throwing him their support, their loyalty, basically begging to become his newest associates. And this only increased, after what happened between him and Don Bonaducci. But even as the desire to be a part of the Salerno’s inner circle increased rapidly, there were the few that sided with the Bonaducci clan. The few who agreed that Nathan was out of line, and should have taken the time to specify what territory still belonged to him after taking his father’s place. Kyle needed to know who these people were, how powerful they were, and how many of them wanted Nathan gone. This was the only way he’d know what they were up against. They could plan better if they knew who to look out for.
“You’re hesitating,” Kyle said, breaking the silence. “Are you afraid to say?”
“I fear nothing.”
“Then why have you not answered my question?”
Kyle was met with silence once again, but this time, it was David who broke it.
“We all know what Salernos think about themselves, Valente. Your Don is fooling no one.”
Sitting back in his seat, Kyle smirked. Now this was getting interesting … “And what exactly do we think of ourselves?”
“You’re out of control, disrespectful, and on some kind of sickening power trip. Ever since the French came to New York and the Luchini family aligned with Salerno, Nathan Salerno thinks he’s the fucking capo di tutti capi.”
Capo di tutti capi. Boss of all bosses.
Kyle laughed. “Sei outta tuo uomo mente. Don Salerno doesn’t give a shit about any of those motherfuckers.”
“If he couldn’t care less, than why did he think his assault against Don Bonaducci would go unpunished?”
“He doesn’t think shit, David. He knows it will go unpunished.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really,” Kyle snapped. Now he was getting pissed. The longer he spoke to David, the more his ‘demands’ began to sound like a threat. “While I admire confidence in an enemy, I must warn you, David. A second attack on S.O. would end very badly for the Bonaducci family,” he said in warning. “You honestly believe your first attempt weakened us? I thought you were smarter than that.”
“I think it was just the beginning, Valente,” David replied, his voice now raising. “And I didn’t stay on the line to deal with your arrogance, I thought you were finally ready to negotiate. You know our demands. We want a place at his table in Manhattan, and assurance that he’ll keep his hands to himself, and we want it all in writing.”
Kyle frowned. “Impossible, David. A place in Manhattan was taken off the table for Bonaducci the day Niko killed that cop and you know it! The answer is no.”
“Well, no is not an option.”
Kyle snorted. “Fuck you, David.” The good for nothing piece of shit. Who the fuck did he think he was talking to?
“No, fuck you, you entitled little shit!”
Entitled? Kyle’s jaw clenched tightly at the insult. He was not entitled; he worked hard for the position he had. If just being his father’s son had been enough to nail him the spot than Mickey would be consigliere, not him. Kyle studied for this shit, and he despised being called entitled, but he held his tongue. His temper was becoming a bit too heated to reply.
“If you’re half the consigliere your father was you’d do what needs to be done to protect your family from another attack.”
Kyle’s fist tightened around the receiver.
“We want a spot in Manhattan or there’s no deal! And before I forget, I’d like you to add keeping that French bitch in line to my list as well.”
And there it was, the last straw.
Kyle wasn’t normally a short tempered man. He prided himself on his learned ability to remain calm, cool, and collected even in the most infuriating of situations in work, and life in general. It took time for him to reach such serenity.
In situations such as the one he found himself in at the moment, men usually tended to lose their tempers.
But Kyle was raised differently than that. He was raised by a man who taught him the effectiveness of using opportunities like these to show one’s strength, to give the opponent a clear and precise view of exactly who they were fucking with.
“You know what, David,” Kyle said, sitting up straighter in his seat. He was feeling damn confident about the little curveball he was preparing to throw into these peace negotiations. “I’m looking at my schedule, and it seems I have some time today. What do you say you and I meet at the site of the attack and talk about these contracts face-to-face, and a bit more … in depth? Do you think your Don would allow that?”
Weaker men would find Kyle’s move stupid, dangerous; they’d probably even accuse him of having a death wish. Going to the site of the attack would give the Bonaducci clan a huge advantage over him in man power, especially since the territory was still technically under their dominion. They had men there, a lot, and they probably would only allow Kyle to have a few to protect him. If Kyle were a weaker man—and if the Salerno Organization wasn’t the organization it was—he would be cautious against making such a request. He’d maybe suggest they meet in neutral territory, unarmed with limited men by their sides …
But Kyle wasn’t a weaker man. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t weak at all. He was fucking fearless, and that fact made what he was about to do all the more entertaining.
>
“You’re kidding, right?” David asked, amusement obvious in his tone.
Kyle nodded, no longer affected by the man’s smug attitude. “I do not kid, David. I mean what I say. Shall we set a meeting?”
For a moment there was silence. It was as if the man were waiting for Kyle to say that he was bullshitting, but Kyle said nothing. He sat quietly, and he waited.
Not too long after, he heard David chuckle softly. “Uh, yeah. Sure, Valente, let’s meet on Bonaducci territory.”
“Very well.” Kyle nodded, although he knew David couldn’t see him.
“I’m sure you’ll be on your best behavior?” he asked. “It wouldn’t be in the best interest of your organization to attempt to attack us.”
Kyle chuckled softly. “Oh, trust me, Mitchum …” Kyle smiled. “I promise you, no one man that I bring with me will lay a hand on you or your men.”
“Very well,” David said. “I’ll call your people with a time.”
And with those last words, the man hung up on Kyle, which was fine. It was also fine that David was choosing the time of the meeting. It was obvious the man still thought he had the upper hand in this, but time would tell him the truth. Kyle had just the thing to get shit back on track. Today, he was going to change the whole scheme of this fucking peace deal.
Hanging up the phone for a moment, Kyle picked it up once again and pressed the zero button. It took about three seconds for his secretary to answer.
“Mr. Valente?”
“Yes,” Kyle said. “Get me through to Gabriel, will you, Chelsea?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, then swiftly did as he asked.
“Hello,” Gabriel’s voice came over the line.
“Hello, Mr. Steele. Mr. Valente is on the line.”
“What the hell, Kyle? Didn’t I just leave your damn office?”
He waited until Chelsea hung up the phone to answer the man.
“Well get your ass back down here then,” he chuckled. “We have a meeting with David Mitchum, and I need a new contract made.”
Dangerous Beauty: Part Four: Beautifully Broken Page 32
