Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

but he does care about gaining advantages.
Whatever it is, he’ll reveal it eventually.
“Go ahead. Say what you want. My men are loyal, and
we’re in the middle of a war. You’d look like an idiot.”
“Your men? Max isn’t even cold yet and you’re already
taking the reins? You’re one vicious fuck, Kazimir.”
“Remember that the next time you threaten me.”
He scoffs. “Like I don’t have insurance for that scenario. I
drop dead, all the heads of the Russian families get a nice little
package from me, explaining what you did.”
“Sure. The proof?”
“A recording of this conversation, for one thing.”
I smile, opening the wine fridge. “Too bad I’ve got a
scrambler on the signal so all you’ll hear on playback is white
noise.”
In the following silence, I hear Massimo seething.
“Look. I appreciate your effort. And I’m in a generous
mood. So as long as what you’ve said turns out to be fact, and
I see on the news that Max died in a prison fight as an
innocent bystander, caught in the frenzy a bunch of crazy
Italians beating each up over drugs, I’ll grant you a favor.
Look the other way if you want to steal one of our shipments,
something like that. Accordo?”
He pauses. “Accordo.”
His pause was too brief for me to believe it’s going to be
something as small and inconvenient as stealing a shipment,
but I’ll deal with it when it happens.
One thing at a time.
We hang up without a goodbye.
I pour two glasses of wine and head back into the living
room. Nat is right where I left her, staring out the window.
She takes the glass I hold out to her without a word.
“I want to show you something.”