Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Leonardo Pérez stood and took a seat across from me. He was the oldest of the Pérez brothers. The rest of them were in their teens, but this little fucker…he was maybe twenty-five.
He wore jeans and a hoody pulled up over dark hair. Tattoos crawled up his neck and over his fingers. He looked like any regular gang banger, but he wasn’t. He was vicious and smart and had grown big enough to pose a threat to established cartels like the Sinaloa.
“Leonardo Pérez.”
He chucked his chin. His younger brother watched us all through narrowed eyes as though waiting to pounce, which was laughable given the size of Jackson compared to the kid. They raised them savage in Colombia, though.
“Giovanni Guerra.” He thrust his hands into his hoody pockets and leaned back in the chair as though he had not a care in the world. “I hear you need la cocaína.”
Straight to it. Good. “I hear you want to sell some. So, how much?”
He smirked. “How much do you want?”
No one asked how much you wanted. They offered what they had. So I tested him. “Fifty kilos.”
“One million US dollars.”
I frowned, my gaze flicking over the kid. I’d assume this was pure bullshit if I didn’t know his reputation. “You know I’m desperate. You know you could ask twice that….”
He shrugged, his gaze passing over the VIP area beyond the windows with mild interest. “I could. And I know you’d pay it.”
“And yet you undercut my supplier. What do you want?” Nothing was free in this world of blood and money.
He took a cigarette from his pocket and placed it to his lips, lighting it. “I want your business, Mr. Guerra.”
Jackson shifted beside me. This guy had a reputation, and I knew Jackson didn’t want to deal with them. Nero was loyal to Rafe, but it was short-sighted. The Pérez brothers were already established enough to cause powerful people problems. So I either shunned them to appease said people, or I allied with them, knowing that one day, they were sure to be the powerful people. Of course, there were no guarantees, but I had a feeling about this one. He reminded me of a more ruthless, young Nero, and that was terrifying. In a few years, with his brothers at his side, they were going to be a problem, one I wanted to be on the right side of. And the simple fact was, depending solely on Chicago had bitten me in the ass. Putting all our eggs in one basket was stupid.
“I can’t make you my sole supplier.”
He nodded. “Because Rafael D’Cruze is family.”
“Something like that.” He was Nero’s brother-in-law, married to Una’s sister. And if there was one person in this world Nero Verdi didn’t go against, it was his wife. None of us did. “And you can’t bring it into the city direct.”
“Fine. Twenty-five kilos a month. Half a mil.”
“You get this first order to me without issues, without unnecessary attention, and you have a deal.” I held my hand out, and he clasped it. “Oh, and watch out for the Irish.”
He smirked, and the look that sparked in his eyes spoke of a blood lust to rival Jackson’s. “That won’t be a problem.” He jerked his head at his brother, and the two of them slipped out of the office like hooded wraiths.
Jackson shook his head at me before pouring a drink from the minibar. “This is a bad idea, Gio. They are absolutely going to draw the kind of attention we don’t need right now.”
“What we need is product. We’re out millions while the fucking Irish are rolling around in coke and money. Our coke, Jackson, our fucking money.”
He fell into the chair across from me and tipped his drink back. “I told you, we can handle them.”
“And draw the exact attention you’re preaching to me about right now.” I shook my head. “Tommy bought off the cops in Chicago, so be ready for the call when Hector has the mob’s coke seized.” I opened my laptop. “You’re going to steal it back.”
He snorted. “You want me to steal from the police, the coke that they seized from the mob, that they stole from us.”
“Exactly.”
He lifted a brow. “It’s actually brilliant.”
“Not just a pretty face.”
“Don’t know what you’re on about. You’re an ugly fuck.” He downed the remainder of his drink before pushing to his feet. “I’ll handle it, and Gio?”
I glanced up at him. “Yeah?”
“Don’t go getting your throat slit by the girl in your bed.”
“Fucking Tommy.”
His laughter rose over the music as he walked down the stairs. I might even risk getting my throat cut to have Emilia Donato in my bed.
I stayed at the club for a few hours, catching up on paperwork. It was gone midnight when my phone rang, Philipe’s name flashing over the screen. He was on Emilia-babysitting duty.