They didn’t hesitate and were out of there.
Smokey clicked his fingers, and some of his men left as well. There were five Capos at Nico’s back, along with his Consigliere. Smokey had kept six men. The difference between them and the mafia was they really didn’t give a fuck if they came out alive. Nico and his men always had to have one man standing otherwise another crew would take his turf.
“That’s more like it. So, tell me, Nico, why weren’t we invited?”
“You’re aware our association cannot go noticed. We must remain quiet.”
“Oh, I know. What I want to know is why I wasn’t given a fucking invitation. This doesn’t have your politicians, your businessmen, or your associates. This is family, made men, and a celebration. Now, last time I checked, we were the ones that handed you the American mob’s head; Black, I recall his name was.”
Nico raised his head, clearly not liking the truth that he’d failed whereas they’d succeeded.
“Now, forgive me if I’m wrong, but that makes this our celebration.”
“Then go ahead, join us,” Nico said, standing up.
“You want to disrespect me and my boys, give it a try. You think you succeed in this city by your muscle that don’t look old enough to stroke their own dicks, let alone handle a gun, give it a try. By the end of the week, you’d be out of business, on the streets, or behind bars. I know the deals you’ve got going down all up and down this country, and I can end it with the snap of my fingers.”
Doing business with Garofalo was not something they’d entered into lightly. With this man, the streets would run red with blood and had been before they intervened.
Smokey had his reasons—Ugly Beast wasn’t sure what they were—but he never questioned his president’s actions. It was up to him what he wanted to have done. If it was ever life-changing to the club, they would all meet at church to discuss. They had debated Garofalo for over six hours before they agreed to help him. Some of the brothers weren’t happy with forming an alliance, a true one, while others figured it was inevitable.
For him, he couldn’t give a shit. Whatever the club decided he’d live by and had been doing that for a long time now.
“What is it you want?” Garofalo asked.
“You came to me for help. You promised me this would benefit me, and the first moment you could prove that, we’re not even invited. You don’t want to associate with us, don’t ask for our help and expect consequences when you do.”
The picture was thrown back to Smokey, who placed it very gently on the desk.
“We don’t have any way of forming an alliance,” Garofalo said. “We also agreed that we didn’t want our union to be recognized outside of our main members.”
“That is true. However, your main members are here, and I realize your word means shit. Next time you got someone knocking on your door, find another MC.” Smokey stood up. “Any other cut besides the Hell’s Bastards steps foot on this turf, I’ll take that as a message for war.”
In another token of disrespect, Smokey presented the men his back. They really didn’t care what the men were about. In this room, the MCs were the ones that ruled on top.
He heard them muttering.
“Wait,” Nico said.
They all stopped at the door, just as Smokey knew they would.
Tonight’s meeting was about getting reassurances from their newfound friends that they were not going to get fucked over at the first opportunity.
“What?” Smokey asked.
“Forgive my … rudeness. In our world, a way we agree to an alliance and make arrangements is through marriage.”
“You sell your daughters for peace and power.”
“I don’t believe you’d be quite so willing to make such an agreement. Your way of life is very different from ours.”
“Oh, you mean we treat women like human beings and you treat them like cattle,” Smokey said.
He watched carefully, seeing the insult spread across each Capo. They clearly didn’t enjoy having their truths thrown at them.
Interesting.
“That’s how we form a peace treaty and an alliance. Marriage. If you’re willing to consider it, then please, show me a member who’d be happy to have a bride. Vigo has a daughter. She’s nineteen, and he’s been trying to find a husband for her.”
“Does she look like a dog?” Hunter asked.
“If you are agreeable with her, then we can negotiate.”
Smokey was silent. “She here?”
“Yes.”
“Go and get her.”
Now this did surprise Ugly Beast. Marriage wasn’t what they wanted. He didn’t show their enemies he was shocked though. No, he waited to see how this would play out.
The Capo now known to them as Vigo left the room.
“Isn’t this all exciting?” Smokey said.
Ugly Beast chanced a look with Hunter, who was also holding his shit together.