“You don’t want to just rule the Irish and the Italians, you want to rule everyone,” he whispered slowly. “You would use me to get all of the black gangs in the city under control, but not just that. Sedric was supposed to come today. So, you’re planning on using him for the Asians, too. Sedric and I would be the secret puppet leaders, but in reality, we would just be working for you.”
“What’s the point of having a diverse family if I don’t use it to my advantage? Hopefully, we will get someone from South America in this family, too. But for now, I have you both…or at least you until Sedric grows up a bit more.”
He put his hands together, staring at me for a moment and waited. It felt like an hour had gone by before he finally spoke again. “Let’s say this works out perfectly, exactly as you planned.” He held out his hands. “Then what is going to be the source of revenue? There are only so many products you can sell, Ethan. If you split the pot three ways, that means the Irish and the Italians get less. That is going to cause problems, isn’t it?”
I could almost hear Calliope applaud him sarcastically for thinking so far ahead. “That is for me to be concerned with. You, on the other hand, have a lot of work ahead of you. Unless you do not want it.”
“I’m not stupid, a puppet king is better than a footman,” he replied.
“Good, Greyson will inform you about all the black Irish men who already work for us, who will now work for you personally. And then you start to build. You will move out of the house—soon. Your first charity project will be this diner. That will be a cover so you can get better aquatinted with those in the neighborhood,” I replied.
“So, that’s why you chose this place. It gives me the best excuse, my parents.” He snickered. When I didn’t reply, he went on. “You knew my dad first met my mom in this diner. He said they used to love coming to this place, and it brought back so many memories for them. Back then, it used to be a nice neighborhood. A lot of Irish used to live here. But better neighborhoods began to go up across the city, and thanks to our family, because of the money coming from our family, many Irish moved out to those better places. And most of the businesses here went downhill. The place went to hell and nothing has been renovated since. You have a twisted view of the world, Ethan, making the old diner where my parents fell in love the same place where their son will come back and revive it for power.”
“Why is that twisted?” I asked him curiously as I rose fr
om the table. “Because you didn’t think about it? It seems the most logical to me. It’s the way of the world. What you leave for ruin someone else will use for glory. Your feelings are irrelevant to that. If you want to lead, you must be willing to do so and step on anything or anyone to get where you want.”
“Noted,” he replied, standing up as well.
“Good, then after Greyson fills you in, you won’t have a problem killing him.”
“What?”
“Do not let me down, Darcy. Call me when it is done.”
DARCY
Greyson had been with Ethan as his right-hand man for years, since nearly the beginning of his time as head of the family. He was close enough to be considered family. And now he wanted him dead. No explanation, no care, nothing. I couldn’t help but smirk. It was amazing. All my life, I had looked up to Ethan. He was the cool older brother I always wanted to be. Nothing seemed to faze him. Nothing seemed to bother him. And each time I saw just how heartless and how cold he was…I knew how much further I had to go.
“That’s all of them,” Greyson said across from me, passing the tablet to me before rising to his feet. “Did he have any other orders for us?”
There were so many things I wanted to ask him. I wanted to know what he’d learned by watching over Ethan all over these years, if he felt burdened. But I knew every word I said, every moment I wasted was a chance to blow the faith my cousin left in me.
“Darcy?” He looked back at me.
“Yes,” I nodded. “Ethan had another order.”
“Well?” He shook his arms, waiting. “What is it—”
BANG.
The blood splattered across my face as he stumbled back once, and then again before falling, the hole in his neck gushing with blood.
“It’s goodbye,” I muttered before firing once more into his skull.
Lifting the phone to my ear, it rang only once before he answered; however, he spoke before I could. “Get rid of his body, I’ve already called 9-1-1.”
“Why the fuck would—”
The bastard hung up, and I knew he was fucking testing me.
ETHAN
“9-1-1 what’s your emergency—”
“Hello? I’m at old Irish Hill diner…I just heard gunshots…There is a black man covered in blood.” I hung up and tossed the phone out the window. I closed my eyes, wondering how exactly he was going to get out of that mess, but if he couldn’t do that, then there was no way I could rely on him to turn gangs into true mafia.
“Monk.”