Chapter 37: Rat race
Luca’s pov
Things were getting out of hand. Alexei Mikhalov was getting out of hand. The bastard had struck again and this time with a more dirty blow.
I sat eerily still in my car, my arm propped on the door panel as I stared out the window, my eyes narrowed at the foreboding building of the ILSAAP office. I waited in rising fury, my mind a mess of my own thoughts.
I’d admit I had underestimated the young pakhan, I basically indulged his past attacks. I had been lax about my retaliations and it had fed his audacity, given him an illusion of invincibility where the matters of the Costra Nostra were concerned.
Dominic strode out of the great building, ascending the wide concrete stairs with a repose that didn’t match the storm brewing in his gaze. He was flanked by the two capos that had been apprehended by Jenkins, a pesky, relentless prosecutor that was a lodged pin in my side.
The bastard had been on my case for as long as I can remember, working harder than the devil himself to take me down. His bothersome nature was always kept in check, courtesy of the DA being on my payroll, and he had never so much as brought any of us for questioning.
Until now.
And Mikhalov was behind it.
I didn’t know what he had on the DA that had him switching sides, Grigori was already digging into that, but whatever it was, it wouldn’t be half of the list of things I had on the dirty government official.
Dominic got into the car, his sleeves rolled up, his tie askew and his usually sleeked back hair was mussed. And I could just tell how worked up he was, the man’s hair was never anything less than perfect. Jenkins must have tested him all the way to hell.Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.
“I will kill that fucking asswipe.” He growled, darkness clouding his features.
I tugged on my cuff, sharing his sentiment even though the lowly prosecutor was the least of my problems. Alexei Mikhalov was the scourge that needed to be extinguished. With immediate effect.
“What happened in there?” I asked, my voice carrying something caustic.
Dominic worked at straightening his crooked tie. “The bastard was asking about Fernando’s new manufacturers and our recent drug transaction with the Yakuza.” He quit in frustration. “How the fuck did he know about any of that?”
But Dominic knew how and the look we shared cemented our suspicions.
“We have a rat.” He deadpanned.
The flatness of my voice rivaled the lethality coursing through me. “A soon to be dead rat.”
I glanced back at the ILSAAP building. “Grigori will contact you in twenty minutes. Forward whatever he relays to me.” I said, my eyes staring daggers at the sanctimonious structure.
A twisted smile tugged at the corners of my lips. “After that, send our smidollato District Attorney a reminder package, make it known that our generosity can only extend so far.”
Dominic nodded in compliance before getting out of the car.
As the vehicle began to move, my mind settled on Alexei Mikhalov. My smile grew darker, he played dirty, just my kind of game and he was about to find out how well I can reciprocate.
I pulled out my phone. “Dominic, send word to Serbian customs administration, tell them a little Russian birdie has intel on the Serbian mafia.” I propped the heel of one leg over the knee of the other. “Let’s give Mikhalov a little allyship misunderstanding to be busy with.”
I could hear Dominic’s smile. “So what’s the real catch?” He knew me too well.
“We’re going to give Mikhalov a prosecution summon of our own.” I paused, my smile fading into a grimness. “Leak the intel we have on the Bratva’s money laundering to the press. Our dear pakhan would have to sheath his claws for a while.”
The goal was to create a crack between the Bratva and the Serbian mafia then watch it all unfold and shatter into fragments because if there’s one thing a breach in trust did, it’s that it never fully reverts to its former state.
It was an irreparable damage and it always, always went to the dogs. Completely crumbled. Alexei Mikhalov and the Serbian boss would burn it all, all on their own. I had already done my part by fanning the coals.
“What about the rat?” Dominic asked.
The rat. I just itched to find out who they are. The one with the audacity to sell us out to the Bratva. I was going to bring hell to them when I caught them. I won’t care if they were forced or pressured into snitching. I would make them cry for death.
I wouldn’t be dealing with all of this mess if it wasn’t for the pettegolo. I would have been with Cara instead, making her explain just what the fuck her problem was.
My reply was a deathly drawl. “We will find him, and we will make sure the snitch never speaks again.”
I hung up and flipped the device in my hand, waiting in anticipation. It’s been over twenty minutes, Grigori has long contacted Dominic so my gift should have gotten to the DA’s office by now.
My response should be due in three, two…
One…
BUZZZZZZZ.
A dark smile pulled at my lips and I swiped on answer. “Chandler.”
“Don Salvatore, what is this?”
I picked at a lint on my jacket. “A little reminder for you. I thought my men made that expressly clear.”
His voice became breathy. “But- but… we are friends. Friends don’t blackmail each other.”
My smile morphed into something dangerous. “We were friends, until you slacked off on our agreement and allowed your subordinates to bother my very busy underbosses with their bullshit.”
He sounded agitated when he spoke. “I can fix that. I promise, I’ll- I’ll rectify the mistake.”
I stayed silent for a minute, enjoying the growing heaves of the bastard’s breath as the silence stretched the tension.
“Chandler.”
He swallowed. “Yes?”
“Do you like seeing your name on the DA’s name plate?”
“Yes Salvatore-”
“Then you should know what would happen if the whole of America finds out about what sick shit you do in your little pastime?”
I heard a little scrambling and something shatter. “Luca Salvatore!”
I raised an eyebrow. “You have one second to correct yourself.”
He instantly mellowed. “Don Salvatore…” he released a nervous chuckle, “it will not come to that.”
My laugh was mocking. “That is up to you amico. Handle Jenkins and I might consider you as one again.”
“I promise you, I’ll-”
“I don’t need your fucking promise, I need delivery and that’s what you’re going to give me.”
I could hear his head bobbing in acquiescence.
“Words, Chandler.”
“Yes.”
“Good. And one more thing, consort with the Russians one more time and you will watch your life take a nosedive.”
I didn’t wait for his sycophantic response before hanging up and dropping the phone into my jacket.
I was getting really sick of dealing with spineless bitches. All I’ve been doing recently was handling stronzos and fuckers, with no break in between.
I was up to my neck so the next person who tries me might be the most unfortunate of all of them. The one that gets to be the scapegoat, and the Polish boss might just be him. I was going to let Dominic handle him but his recent bragging paradesand on my turf for that matterhad become something personal to me.
Nobody born of a woman was going to disrespect me in my territory, even out of it, and get away with it. I was going to make a scarecrow out of the bastard.
It took a good thirty minutes to return to Rico’s, courtesy of the city’s hellish traffic. Cara had already clocked out before I arrived and I tried not to dwell on the heavy drop of my heart at the information.
I wanted to see her, she was the perfect medium to shake off all of the stress, anger and frustration I felt. I returned to my car and instructed the driver to drive me to her apartment, my pulse racing at the thought of seeing her again.
However, I realized the day’s series of bullshit wasn’t over when a soldier informed me of a minor disturbance going on in my club.
“Fix it,” I snapped, settling into the back seat.
The soldier looked agitated.
“What the fuck is the problem now Donny?”
“There isn’t a lot they can do over there. The guest…”
My patience was wearing thin. “What happened to the guest?”
“She’s Principessa Cortini. And we can’t get her to leave.”
My sigh rivaled a deep puff of a blunt. I slammed the car door and told my driver to go to the club. I was going to shake Valentina for every minute she denied me of Cara’s presence.