shuhaige
Chapter 12 (Marco)
Chapter 12 (Marco)
“He needs his balls to drop, give him a fucking break. If it gets bad, we’ll intervene from the sides. He is
only half as fucked up like us, leave him be. I mean it, Deno.”
“Okay, jeez, you’re a fucking asshole when you want.” Deno shakes his head and smiles, taking the
crystal bottle that is only half-filled with the deep amber liquid we both love.
“You know that fucker’s hacker name is The Air?” He asks, referring to Luke.
“I know that he is the fucker Michael Stone offered me 5-mill to find.”
“Let me guess, you got nothing?” Deno chuckles as he pops the lid back on the bottle.
“Yeah, got fuck all. He doubled it an hour ago.”
“Still got nothing?”
“Nothing. Luke is going to make me much more than 10-mill. Stone insults me with his small number of
pocket change. Luke cleaned him for 200-mill. Got it back, but Stone wants his lifeline.”
“So you let him lay low, soon Michael will focus on something else, the man’s known not to take shit
personally for too long. Will join Vince in New York next time he is stopping by, and way the field.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
“How was the meeting with Sartini? DeMarco say what he wants?” Deno asks.
“Aleksei and his men want clear passage for the two shipments coming from the North. DeMarco wants
The Shadows to oversee it runs smooth. Nice ammo, I agree with him on this. The Bratva are good
businessmen, but smooth and simple isn’t their way. The Shadows, on the other hand, don’t seem
keen to play bodyguard to Aleksei even if it’s for peace of mind. The Ghost told Filippo to go get fucked
when he called him.”
Deno laughs, “Should’ve got Vince to give him a call, he’d given Vince at least a few more words than
that,” he suggests.
"What's the good news?" He asks, as I take the bottle from him and fill my own glass up. Taking three
ice cubes from the silver bucket behind me, I stand in front of my brother.
“The Cartel wants open gates on the South. After the stunt they pulled in The Satan Sniper’s territory,
Paulo better start preparing for war. The MC owns that shitty town now. DeMarco also lives in the
South, he is close to the Elites, no way they’ll get open any fucking thing without a fucking war. His
words. He wants Filippo to send the message. With their recent activities, that conversation will be
happening in another form, and Filippo won’t be the one delivering the message.”
“No, he won’t,” Deno promises before he sips his drink. The ring looming on his index finger. The Onyx
square stone, the platinum craft holding it has been in our family for generations.
“Thought as much. I saw Sartini's little hellion today,” My lips tug up on the side at the memory of her
glaring at me. She is shorter than I thought. I always thought she’d be taller. She certainly seems taller
with the stories I have heard around my table.
“Did you manage to frighten her away already?” My brother’s brow quirks.
“Actually, I think she left imagining what it would feel like to gut me.”
He laughs, “Maybe we should actually be on time for this occasion. I think a little fun, brother, might be
what we need tonight, all of us together under one roof.”
“Almost everyone." I correct, "Our sister will not be attending tonight.”
“Interesting you should mention that,” Deno’s lips tighten, “Gabriel said she called him yesterday to
take over for the evening so she could attend tonight’s activities.”
I sigh, pulling out my phone. I dial the number on my last call log.
“Marco. I thought you’d be powdering your balls for tonight,” Stephano DeMarco says.
“I just finished dust it off. Got some math I need to run by you later.”
“You call me, I know it ain’t for no fucking math. You are a patient man. What is it?”
“Gabriel needs to be around tonight. He made prior arrangements that cause conflict.”
“Ah, I get you. But your sister is not going to be pleased by this, no?”
“Precisely. My sister needs to learn the ropes I will allow her to pull are long until I cut them short,” I
explain to him, only because I am asking him to pull rank and with Gabriel, which is not going to go
down smoothly.
The group that was sent to Chicago were not the kids my father and his members sent to school in
Allie's territory. They were different.
They didn’t do well with authority. Gabriel was the worst when it came to following orders, he was the
leader.
“Consider it done. How is my nephew doing in Seattle? His little gang keeping out of trouble?”
“Deno is keeping them close, not too much excitement. Sartini keeps his daughter home on the
weekends. They don’t move without her.” This, I knew, we all knew.
He laughs, “I told Sartini he needs to change his mind about that daughter of his marrying Gabriel. My
nephew needs a girl like her in his life.”
“That will cause too many ripples. While Aliyana remains in his sights, she is still the girl we sent to live
with 4 boys. And she is a Vasiliev, are you sure you want the headache? She’ll be 21 soon.”
He laughs, “She is more Capello than Vasiliev, but I see your point. Sartini hasn’t told her anything as
yet, he’s stalling.”
I knew this, but DeMarco knew more, the two of them were close.
“Maybe he is bracing himself for her reaction to the knowledge that her freedom is a chain in itself.”
“Or he is hoping his lost daughter will decide to make an appearance. That girl is difficult to find!”
DeMarco confesses.
“Should I clear a flight plan for you around 5?” I ask him, changing the subject. I didn’t want to talk
about Capello’s daughter, my father gave away. Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.
“No, we’ll be driving. I have a small matter to attend before I arrive.”
“Don’t forget the ice-cream. She’ll be expecting it,” I say as he laughs, ending the call.
“We need to do something about our sister.” Deno doesn’t waste time getting down to the reason
behind my call. I place my phone on the bar counter, rubbing my hand over the scruff on my jaw.
“I’ll handle it.”