His crew came and set up yesterday, but I kept my distance. They know it’s my place and they came to do business here, which is great. But I’m not a part of their crew. I’d rather give them the space they want and a warm welcome without getting involved in their shit. I can’t fuck this up.
“This is gonna be great. I know it will.” Marco grins at me and slaps his hand on my back. His arm has to reach up to hit me square on my shoulders. I’m six-foot-five and all muscle. Next to Marco I look like a fucking beast. I was the top earner in the famila for a reason. I’m a terrifying fucker to go up against. People tend to pay up rather than piss me off. But even with all the money I was bringing in, they tried to have me killed. They tried, and they failed.
“Boss’s already impressed with everything you did to those pussies.” My gut twists and my chest tightens with pain. They should’ve known better than to come for me. That shit with my uncle had nothing to do with me. Or my father. And they sure as fuck knew my sister and my mother didn’t have shit to do with any of it. They fucking came for us all the same, though. They should’ve made sure we were all dead. Those fuckers left me alive. And they paid the price. Even if they were the only people I had in this world.
I grin at him and huff a laugh. I need the boss to like me. I need somewhere to go, someone to be. I grew up in this life. And everyone I knew turned their backs on me. If I hadn’t been so fucked up, I could’ve started the business myself. I have contacts. A few I still trust. But I made this call too soon. Now I need to go through with it.
I breathe in deep and walk through the hall to the hangar. The meeting’s going down here. I’m ready for this. It’s not an ambush, but they could easily kill me. It’s just me against all of them. They’re not here for that. No one’s touching me after what I did. Revenge will make a man crazy. Unstoppable. Untouchable. But it’s also left me alone. I’m ready to move on and get back to work.
There are a few small planes in the relatively empty hangar. Stacks of cocaine bricks wrapped in plastic are sitting on a folding table. It's not what I’m used to. I’m more of a blackmail-the-politician type. But shipping and selling will have to do in the beginning, I suppose. Onward and upward or some shit like that. I’ll prove my worth.
Four men in black and grey suits surround the table, watching the two workers weigh and bag the product. As they hear our footsteps, they turn to face us. The boss, Abram, walks toward me. His underboss walks next to him, but a step or two behind. The other two men with them are obviously soldiers, judging from their broad shoulders. One has a scar across his face. It looks like it came from a slash that should’ve taken his eye out. The other has a tattoo scrolling up his neck. Both of the soldiers read as highly dangerous, nothing like Abram himself. Their dark eyes stare back at me as they put their arms behind their backs and square their shoulders, waiting for orders. Marco walks behind them and back to the table. He’s just a soldier. And he’s completely happy with that. He’s a dumb fucker.
“Kane,” Abram greets, as he extends his hand to me. He's a tall, slender man, with black hair that's slicked back with oil. I shake his hand firmly and stare into his eyes; they’re so dark, they appear black as well.
Abram’s a deadly boss. I heard about what he did to the cartel in Mazatlan. I’m not all that happy seeing how he cut ties purely for business reasons. And by cut ties, I mean demolished their businesses, stole everything they had, and murdered them. To call him ruthless would be putting it lightly, but beggars can’t be choosers. I know there’s a target on my back. I need to find a place and lie low. And this is the only option I have right now. So I’m making a deal with the devil.
“Abram. Or should I call you Boss?” I ask, with the hint of a grin on my face.
He smiles back broadly. “Boss, I think.” Hearing that allows me to breathe, but I don’t show my relief. He turns and wraps his arm around my shoulders, guiding me to the group of men. It’s an awkward hold on me, because I’m so much taller than him, but I allow it. “Thank you again, for making this transition easier on us. I appreciate the gesture.”
“No problem.” I nod my head and take a look at the product lined up on the table. That’s a lot of coke. No doubt using my hangar was a decent option for them. And a sign of trust that they accepted my offer.
“I’d like you to meet Vadik, my second-in-command,” Abram says. I reach out my hand to the underboss and he’s quick to take it with a smile. Another good sign. This man is older. Vadik looks to be somewhere around my father’s age, whereas Abram can’t be any older than 35. Abram’s face has the hint of wrinkles around his eyes. This man, however, has earned his age. Grey hair that’s slicked back the same way as Abram's and deep-set wrinkles on his face. His pale blue eyes are like ice. So fucking cold. This man reads as deadly. Abram could easily fool you into thinking he's less dangerous than he is, lulling you into a false sense of security. Based on everything I've heard about him, he's succeeded in doing that multiple times in the past with former rivals. But this man, Vadik, looks like a killer.
“Nice to meet you.” I shake his hand. He puts his other hand on top of mine.
“It is indeed, Kane. I’ve been anxious to meet the man who took down the entire Armeno family in one night.” He smiles wickedly as he says, “You’ve made quite an impression.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” I say the words, but I’m not happy at all. I did what I had to do. I didn’t want to. I had to.
“I’ve considered your proposal to join me,” Abram begins, while looking me in the eyes. I can feel a “but” coming, and I don’t like it. I keep my expression impassive as he continues. “I like it. I like it a lot. I think we’ll work well together.” My brows raise slightly and he registers my surprise.
“We’re going to have some more guests in a moment,” Abram says, motioning with his hand and guiding me to the front of the hangar. The doors are open, and the sun is shining through. It’s a bright, beautiful day. The breeze is refreshing. Too fucking bad there’s so much adrenaline pumping in my blood that I can barely breathe.
“More guests?” I ask, with a bit of curiosity in my voice. I’m not curious though--I’m pissed. I offered my place to him to use for entry into the US. Not for him to use as a base for his operations. And definitely not so he could invite more people. But I’m sure as shit not going to tell him that. Not right now, anyway. I may be fueled by anger, but I’m not a hothead.
“Now that our competitor is no more, we have a few business meetings to conduct.” He stops in the open tarmac, looking toward the road. “Have you heard of the Valettis?”
I nod my head at his question. The Valettis are a tight pack. They're nearly the only famila left that has an actual family related by blood heading up their organization. At least around these parts. I’ve heard good things about them, promising things. But we’ve never met personally. They stayed in their territory and we stayed in ours.
“Well, they did business with our former competitor and now they’re coming to meet us regarding our new terms.”