Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Thank you.” I keep my expression as neutral as his.
“Your father and I had come to an understanding of sorts.” I don’t care what their understanding was before. It died right along with my father.
“I am not my father.”
“I’m not sure who you are.”
“I’m now the man in control of a majority of the docks south of the Carolinas.” That is why we’re here. “A man that’s been getting a lot of interesting phone calls from a lot of Italians.”
“I figured as much. Who?”
“That’s really not your business.”
War leans back in his chair. “You branched out from your father. Took over all of California.” I did, and it wasn’t fucking easy. Things are a lot different on the West Coast. But I’d done that without my father, all on my own. I had to rub up on a lot of wealthy people and politicians. My docks are cleaner. “It’s going to be hard to manage two coasts.”
“That’s a me problem.”
“What are you even running out of California? You’re a clean-cut boy.”
“It’s clean enough that I keep most happy out there.” Art. That’s the dealings there. I might appear clean, but my hands are dirty too. I hadn’t been given much of a choice in that matter from a very young age. Maybe if my father had let me be, he’d still be alive.
Art is always needing to be moved. Stolen from one person for another or pieces no one should have at all. You’d be surprised how cutthroat they could be about it. I find it all rather humorous. I’ve watched one painting being stolen three times. Back and forth it goes, but that isn’t my business. I just get the shit where it’s going and make sure no one is any the wiser.
“I’m going to be straight with you, Paxton. Your father did a lot of shit I wasn’t okay with, but we had an understanding. Now with him gone, someone else is going to want it.” The sharks are already circling. It’s rather predictable, most people’s downfall.
“No one could afford it. It’s not for sale.” No, then I wouldn’t get what I was truly after.
“Some things are simply taken.”
“You can try,” I say, not missing a beat and even letting an easy smile pull at my lips. I know how to put people at ease. Usually, I slow my speech and let my Southern drawl catch with a relaxed demeanor, but I know that won’t work here.
“You and I are more alike than you realize.” No, he’s wrong there; I know exactly how similar we are. “We both want to maintain order and make sure things don’t get too sloppy. Others will get sloppy. I heard you fired a lot of his men.”
I did. But the reason for that was twofold. First, I didn’t want them. I didn’t trust them not to turn on me. Second, I would now need protection. Which War is about to offer me.
“I didn’t trust them.”
“You have no protection any longer, and you are not a part of any family. Something that hasn’t sat well since your father was in control of them.”
“There is nothing I can do about not being Italian.”
“But you could take my offer of protection. We hold all of the East Coast.”
“At what cost to me? For all I know, I let your men in, and you slowly try to take over. It would make it all the easier.”
“This is where trust will have to come in.”
“No.” I shake my head. “As you said, I’m not Italian. I don’t play rightfully in your world. I don’t get to sit at the same table when you have your little meetings.”
“Little?”
I ignore the comment. “But I could.”
“That I cannot offer you. There is nothing even I can do about that.”
“Are you sure about that?” I can think of a few things. It’s why I’m here, after all. The second step to my plan.
“By all means, enlighten me.”
“Naomi.”
“What about Naomi?” War asks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look more serious in his life than he does right now at the mention of his daughter’s name.
“If we were to marry, that would give me trust and a whole lot more protection.”
War is already shaking his head no. “Marriage in this family is forever. You won’t divorce five years from now.”
“I understand.”
“This goes beyond culture.”
“I understand,” I say again. “Weren’t you and your wife in an arranged marriage?” I point out.
“That was different.”
“Was it? It’s my understanding that Tova too wasn’t from a family name of standing.” War quickly moves the conversation away from his wife. I’m walking a fine line even bringing her up, but I’ll do whatever I have to to try and convince him this is necessary, and I’m pressing on the point I know that will get to him the most.