Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 127461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127461 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Rogue interrupted. Which only goes to show that human shifters need guidance. Cristo is lucky his leopard has been able to guide him. As usual, the male cat sounded smug.
Gorya hid his smile and met Marzio’s inquiring gaze. “I believe we’re ready to proceed.”
“Before we go any further,” Marzio said, once again sitting back in his chair and regarding Gorya over the tips of his joined fingers. His gaze was diamond hard. Gorya was looking at the man who had held an immense territory for years and ruled with an iron hand. “There’s a price for everything, Gorya. I’ll want to know what that price is before I involve my sons.”
Gorya respected him all the more for asking the question. “An alliance between our families. Before there is any agreement, know this—on both sides, when an Amurov gives his word, he binds all family members, and the penalty for breaking that word is death. We would carry out that sentence on our own. If an ally betrayed us, it would be war and a death sentence. It would be annihilation. We don’t expect aid with anything unless we go before the council, or you do, and we speak and agree beforehand. And human trafficking is off the table. That is an absolute.”
Alessandro made as if to speak, turning toward his father with a small shake of his head, but Marzio held up an imperative hand. “I am still the head of this family and I make the decisions for all of us. We don’t believe in selling other human beings. We’ve spoken of this often. My sons believe as I do and feel just as strongly. That is not a barrier to the alliance between our families.”
Gorya thought it tribute to Marzio’s authority that his sons didn’t interrupt or act impatient. They waited quietly, arms folded across their chests, listening to their father and Gorya carefully.
“Your family will not be asking for territory in Houston? Or a tribute of any kind?”
Gorya shook his head. “We don’t want or need such things. This is your territory, Marzio, not ours. When the Anwars are gone, every ally we have will aid you in taking over all of Anwar’s assets and will back you with the council. We want nothing here. I’ve laid out our terms. We don’t enter into alliances lightly. It’s as much for your protection as for ours.”
“There are advantages on both sides,” Marzio conceded. “And helping our family to acquire what the Anwars leave behind is very generous.”
Gorya didn’t respond. Often silence was the best response. Marzio knew that to wipe out the Anwar family without the consent of the council, he would need the Amurovs. If he informed the council, there was no doubt word would get to the Anwars before they could be taken down. Marzio wouldn’t want that. He wanted to take the Anwars down, to destroy them. He thought the way the Amurov family did.
Gorya’s family had spent a great deal of time gathering information on the other dons and pakhans who had territories in both the United States and overseas. It was a case of knowing your enemies. They’d studied strengths and weaknesses. It was engrained in them. Marzio was close enough and ruled by the same council. They did business with him on a regular basis. He and his sons were men they’d spent a great deal of time studying.
Marzio nodded. “You speak for Fyodor and Mitya? This agreement stands with all three of you?”
“Yes, as well as Sevastyan and Timur. They don’t hold territories, but they are included in all decisions. It was Timur’s decision to remain as Fyodor’s head of security. Sevastyan chose to remain with Mitya.”
Marzio handed the report to his eldest son. Beside him, Bendetto leaned closer to read it as well. Cristo and Donato waited patiently.
Alessandro’s handsome face darkened as he read through the report, and then he glanced at his brother before looking at his father. Silently he handed the papers to his younger brothers.
“You don’t look as shocked as I thought you would be,” Marzio observed. “Did you know about this?” His tone was mild, but there was an ominous glint in his eyes.
Alessandro shook his head. “I suspected something was going on. Remember when one of our crew, Ciro, was killed in an accident near the docks? I never bought that story. Something didn’t ring true. We even discussed it.”
Marzio frowned. “Yeah, I remember. You were insistent, but I told you to tread carefully. Bartolo had been my friend for years.”
Alessandro sighed. “Nothing added up. The accident report didn’t make sense. And when I talked to our cop, he said he got stonewalled. That convinced me someone higher up had been bought off. None of the dockworkers would talk. Not a single one. Didn’t matter how much money they were offered. The only time one came close was in a bar. Bendetto bought him a few drinks and he was beginning to get friendly, went to the men’s room and never came out. Cops said it was a drug overdose, that he’d shot up in there, but he didn’t have a history of taking drugs. He drank, but drugs were not his poison.”