“What do you need?”
“Routes. The Cubans run most of Miami, and we need to secure an alliance.”
“We have routes, too,” I remind him.
He shakes his head. “Not as many. And if we aren’t careful, we’ll lose what we do have. We have the product, and they have the territory. It’ll be your job to make sure they realize they need us.”
“And how am I supposed to do that? The Alvarezes haven’t particularly been our biggest fans.”
“Get creative. Make it so they see the value in our families working together.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
I fix my eyes on him, baiting him for an honest answer. He knows just as much as I do that Josef would rather die than work with us. Over the years, we’ve found a way to exist, which is a miracle, considering how deep the hate goes with the Alvarezes and the De Lucas. A war that is only simmering under the surface, waiting to explode. The fathers before them managed to silence the beef, all with the promise that we stay out of each other’s way. And now we’re supposed to work together?
“What are we walking into?” I dare ask.
“Josef is a smart man, and smart men like money. He’s also bleeding through it and needs this connection a lot more than we do. The stubborn asshole has agreed to meet; you just need to convince him.”
“I’ll need the research file—give me every piece of evidence you have on him.”
Grandfather opens the drawer on his right and removes a manila envelope, slapping it on the desk only inches in front of me. He coughs again, then takes a sip of whiskey as I lean forward, setting my empty tumbler down and picking up the package.
Prince huddles close while I undo the string that binds the flap close and reach inside. The stack is thick and smooth like photos, and once I dig the files out, I know that I’m right.
“And Enzo.”
We stare back at Grandfather simultaneously, waiting for him to continue.
“Make the connection, stay out of trouble, and come right back home,” he orders.
I continue to survey his features, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. He knows me well indeed, just like he knows my vice of pretty girls on the Miami strip.
“And where’s the fun in that,” I tease and stand.
Prince follows my lead, taking the envelope when I hand it to him. Grandfather shakes his head, downs the rest of his drink, and waves us off.
“Don’t worry, Nonno. I’ll be on my best behavior.” I turn and head for the exit.
Prince is at my side, reviewing the images. He makes a noise, and I glance in his direction.
“Says here he has a daughter.”
“Yeah. Elena’s her name, I think,” I huff out. “But no one’s ever seen her.”
“Hm,” Prince mutters. “That’s probably because she’s as ugly as her father.”
“Like that would matter to you,” I deadpan.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing, cousin. Pussy is pussy, and every mouth is fuckable.” He shrugs with a grin.
Unfazed by his comment, I snatch the envelope from his grasp and make my way to my quarters to formulate a plan.
“Si alza a mezzogiorno.”Wheels up at noon.I announce and disappear down the hall.
3
ALICIA