Dinner on Friday

41. Dante

MONEY & POWER

Mathias had a network of power so vast that an hour after signing the plea deal that took twenty-four hours to negotiate, two cops escorted me out of the police station to a black Cadillac van.

Before I could protest, the side door swung open, and I was thrown inside like I was nothing but trash.

Right across from me, Mathias sat, his gun positioned between his legs, pointing directly at me. Behind me, his goons kept a tight leash on me.

"You made the right choice," he said.

"Fuck off," I spat.

He grinned. "That's the spirit of a clan boss. You know what to do. You're in charge now, and if I see your little plaything anywhere near you, I will put a bullet through her ugly afro head."

Anger simmered, turning my neck red. My hands clenched into fists as I fought the urge to reach across and strangle the living daylights out of my uncle.

"Is Annabella aware that I'm taking over?" I asked instead of acknowledging his threat.

Mathias laugh. "What do you think?"

I groaned. This mission was nearly impossible, but I couldn't let Mathias see through me. Killing him on his turf would be a challenge with the amount of goons he surrounded himself with. Taking down Diablo and taking over the production of Mx? Suicidal. 

The thin-faced, lizard-looking man next to me reached for my wrists in an attempt to handcuff me. Without thinking, I headbutted him, knocking him backward toward the window.

He yowled, and I glared at him. The other man beside me moved toward me, but Mathias held his hand up, signaling the man to stop.

"Have some respect, " Mathias chastised. "He's your boss."

"Yes, sir. I apologize. That will take getting used to."

The van pulled up at the mansion, and I called on the man my father raised me to be. Courage mixed with confidence filled my chest as I stalked past the entryway and the living room toward the den, where Annabella, Aunt Elena, and my father were gathered, waiting for dinner.

Strolling past the toys scattered about and the piano my mother used to play. I didn't let the combination of hominess and grandeur blind me to the shady dealings that often took place within these walls.

My footsteps echoed on the marble floor as I approached my family, walking past giant vintage mirrors, chandeliers, and more toys.

Without hesitation, I asserted my presence, establishing myself as the new clan boss. As I spoke, they looked on with curiosity and apprehension.

Annabella resisted at first, suspecting something was off. My father didn't say much, but his observant eyes swung back and forth between me and Mathias, and his men standing behind us.

"Where's your wife?" Aunt Elena wondered, her gentle voice cutting through the tension in the air. "I still remember how pretty she looked at your wedding. It's a pity we didn't get to know her over the years."

I forced a smile, and my eyes jumped subtly to meet Mathias's shrewd gaze next to my father's.

"We're getting divorced." My stomach lurched the second the words left my mouth, leaving a bitterness on my tongue. My heart picked up pace, causing perspiration to break out on my forehead.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Annabella said. "It makes sense now that you're back. I always knew the restaurant wouldn't hold your interest forever."

You don't know jack shit, little sister.

"Clan life is in your blood," she continued.

My blood rejected the idea as I wondered how she managed to feel comfortable raising her son in the environment that led to our mother's death and had caused Aunt Elena to give Sergio up for adoption so she could keep him safe.

"So it appears," I muttered. "Now, bring me up to speed."

Her demeanor changed and she sat up straight in her chair. "Before we get into that, I want to let you know I'm open to a partnership. Just like Dad and Uncle Mathias. At least for a few months until you get the hang of things."

"There's no need for that," I said drily. "Although I may approach you for advice."

"At least think about it."

I stared at her for a long while before nodding. Had Mathias put her up to this? If I were my uncle, I wouldn't trust me either.

Annabella smiled, the tension in her shoulders easing. "Thank you. Now, back to business. All in all, things are going great, but our last two shipments to South Africa were confiscated."

"From where?"

"Portugal."

"Is this a logistics problem or something else?"

Annabella's brows furrowed. "Don't know yet."

"Change up the route and see if that changes anything. Try the seaport at Leixões."

"That may not be–"

"Just do it. Report back if there's an issue. Two confiscated shipments back to back is bad for business.  We're talking at least three million euros worth of product wasted. We have Monty's money, and he doesn't have any cannabis to distribute. What did you tell him to keep him on board? Because what's to stop him from finding another distributor?"

Annabella's silence was louder than a jackhammer jacking shit up at three o'clock in the morning.

"Annabella, what did you tell him?"

I watched her closely as the color drained from her face. She glanced at my father, hoping for some form of help, but he remained stoic.

"I told him the shipments were delayed, and he seemed to understand..." The sentence trailed off in a question mark.

I let out a deep groan. "Men like Monty never understand. They understand money and power only. None of which you provided."

"You're right," Annabella replied. "I will call Monty and rectify my mistake."

Annabella didn't cower from my scrutiny, and I saw that she had grown a lot while leading the clan. Maybe I should take her offer of partnership into consideration. If we worked together, we could eliminate Uncle Mathias for good.

As the meeting progressed, a nagging doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind. What had Mathias told Monty to keep him on board?

I was familiar with men like Monty; they never took punches lying down unless, by doing so, it meant gaining more power and money.

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