“You had a promotion, Gabris?” I ask, not used to finding him up here in the inner circle.
He swallows nervously before confessing, “The boss made a few adjustments after…”
“Right,” I mutter quietly, not needing him to say any more.
Dad wasn’t our only loss that night. And seeing as I’ve buried my head in the sand ever since and refused to rejoin the real world, I have no idea what’s been happening around here.
My first taste of work was the other night when I sat down with everyone in Theo’s flat.
Regret twists my insides. I should have been present and useful in this fight the Italians have started, not hiding like a pussy in my flat, unable to focus on anything but the pain.
“Come on, the boss is waiting for you,” Stefanos says up ahead, marching toward Damien’s office door and opening it for us.
But unlike I was expecting, he doesn’t leave us to it. Instead, he slips inside where we find Damien, Charon, and Galen.
My breath catches, a massive fucking lump climbing up my throat as both Stefanos and Galen move to stand behind Damien. The exact spot that my father used to fill as Damien’s underboss.
My stomach turns over, and for more seconds than necessary, I’m convinced that I’m going to throw up on Damien’s ugly-as-fuck carpet.
“It’s okay, man,” Theo says, sensing my distress.
His hand lands on my back in support and he gently pushes me toward the two chairs that are waiting for us.
“Boss, Galen, Stefanos, Charon,” Theo greets politely while I continue to hold it together.
“Take a seat.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, ripping my eyes from the two men over the boss’s shoulders and trying to focus on the reason they called us here.
“The Italians have taken the right side of Walker Street.”
“What?” Theo booms, his grip on the arms of the chair turning his knuckles white.
“It’s okay. We knew it was coming.” We all knew it was coming. It was what Enzo told us about Saturday night. But no one said a fucking thing about just letting the Italians’ plans play out.
“Yeah, but you didn’t need to let it happen,” Theo snaps, echoing my thoughts.
“And what would you have proposed we do instead, Son?”
“He’s right,” I say, agreeing with Damien. “If we stepped in at this point, they’d know we have someone in their inner circle. This is the smartest thing to do.”
“I get that, I do, but fuck. That means they have Marco’s.”
“And they’re going to be disappointed when they get down to the basement, because Marco shut up shop on his little side business a few weeks ago.”
“And that won’t ring alarm bells?” Theo asks suspiciously.
“They’ve been trying to take that bit of our territory since Ricardo got into power. It’s only sensible of us to move that part of our business elsewhere. Should have done it before now,” Damien explains.
“So what now?” Theo asks. “We sit back and watch them take our businesses one by one?”
“For now, we continue what we’re already doing. I don’t want to make the first move. I want to intercept theirs.”
“And what if they don’t make one?”
“They will,” he says confidently. “They’re trying to drag us into it. But we’re not going to bite. But at some point, they’re going to want to really hit us for Daemon and Anthony.”
“Should we be moving out?” I ask, thinking of my sister and the other girls living in our building. There’s no fucking way I’m putting any of them at risk. They’ve all already been through too much.