Chapter 12

Emiliano

My cousin nodded. “I’ll round up everyone and head south toward the warehouse.”

“I need to get Papá, José, and Horace. We’ll meet you as soon as we can with the reinforcements. Don’t mention the famiglia until you’re all contained.”

There was a rumble of discontent that el Patrόn hadn’t addressed them.

“He will at the warehouse,” Nick reassured.

After gathering my papá, José, and Horace, I took one last look at Jano’s house. The noise level had lessened as more and more soldiers made their way out of the inside gate. I turned to Horace. “Should you make one last check on Isabella?”

“Everyone within those walls is safe. It’s those who are outside those walls that concern me.”

With each of us driving our own vehicle, we set off for the private airport while the others made their way to the warehouse. Our caravan arrived at the exclusive small airport minutes before their plane was scheduled to land. This was the airport the Lucianos frequented when they came out west. Getting out of my car, I leaned against the hood and surveyed the land.

By the look of the chain-link fences and pole-barn-style structure housing offices, it wasn’t exclusive in a luxury sense of the word. Not as frequented would be a better definition. Narrowing my eyes, I scanned beyond the fences. There were plenty of open fields. A sharpshooter could possibly hit a target.

My father stepped from his SUV driven by Carlos, his trusted bodyguard for most of my life. “Silas spoke privately to you, not to me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jano is pushing us older lieutenants out.”

I shook my head. “That’s not true.”

He leaned against my car and faced the runway. “You know what they’re saying?”

“Who?”

“Our men.” Papá shook his head. “Some are blaming the famiglia for our war. Before Dario and Catalina married, we were friendly with Herrera.”

“You agreed to have Cat marry. Do you think that was now a mistake?”

“Fuck,” he growled. “El Patrόn didn’t leave me a choice in the matter. And now Camila…”

I repeated my question. “Do you think it was a mistake, either on your or Jorge’s part?”

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his inside suit coat pocket and offered me one. I shook my head. It wasn’t that I never smoked, only that when I did it meant I was stressed. I refused to admit to that state of mind at the moment.

Dad removed a lighter from his slacks pocket, lit the cigarette, and took a long drag. The thing was that my stress smoking came from an example in my life.

“You’re stressed about this?” I asked.

He blew a cloud of smoke into the breeze. “It wasn’t a mistake on either of our parts.” He tipped his face up toward the sky. “Dante is my son-in-law as well as Dario. I trust them, more than I did their father. Jorge made an alliance with the Kansas City Mafia. Herrera made an alliance with the Volkov and Kozlov bratvas. I’m concerned we chose the wrong ally.”

“Herrera and Volkov have fucked Kozlov. That doesn’t sound like an ally.”

“Jano doesn’t have what it takes to be jefe. He’s too young. This new turn of events is making our ranks concerned. Do you know what frightened soldiers do?”

“They fight.”

“They run,” he said. “And they’ll run to Herrera.”

I shook my head. “I refuse to believe that.”

“Youth has a way of blinding people, always seeing possibilities when experience would tell you that the fucking house is on fire. I can smell the smoke. Either we get out or go down in flames.”

I turned to face my father. At over a quarter century my senior, he was the man I always looked up to and admired. Maybe it was youth. Maybe it was that Nick and I were closer to Jano and Rei than our fathers were. Whatever the reason, this moment felt earthshaking in a way I wasn’t ready to internalize. “If you’re not for the Roríguez cartel, Papá, then you’re against it. I never imagined you would be a traitor.”

Shaking his head, he released another cloud of smoke. “A traitor is by definition a person who commits treason. I haven’t betrayed anyone or any organization. I swore an oath to Jorge and to Señor Cruz before him.” His dark stare met mine. “You’re a man now, Em. Start thinking like one. Two of my daughters are married to Luciano men, two very powerful men. I will never turn to Elizondro Herrera, but I’m not above asking my sons-in-law for clemency. This ship feels as if it will go the way of Bella.”

“My oath was to Jorge and since to Jano. As long as my sisters are under the protection of the famiglia and the alliance is intact, I will support both sides. The only clemency I may ask for will be for Mama if she finds herself a widow.”

The bright lights of a Cessna preceded the rumbling sound of engines as the plane carrying Dante and his soldiers touched down on the runway.

Papá tossed the remains of the cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out on the tarmac. “Be careful, Em.”

“Jano sent us here because of our connection to the Lucianos—a friendly welcoming crew, remember?”