Avenge :Romanian Mob Chronicles(76)

A knock on the door drew my attention. “Da?”

When Sandu, one of the most seasoned soldiers in Clan Constantin, came in, I stood, buttoned my jacket.

Lily would have to wait.

“What is it?” I asked.

Sandu was pensive, tense, but I stood patiently, waiting. Finally he said, “Christoph Junior. He says you are to come with me to meet the Peruvians.”

He hadn’t said anything to me about it, but I kept my expression neutral and asked, “When is this supposed to happen?”

“Tonight. One a.m.”

Sandu looked positively worried now, something that was unusual for him. He was solid, smart, and he didn’t scare. Though he was young, he was right to be worried. Something about this felt wrong. Clan Constantin had never done business with the Peruvians, and after the issues with Clan Petran, I hadn’t foreseen us doing so anytime soon. Their leadership was unstable, and maintaining good relations with Vasile was a priority, something that might be jeopardized should we work with his enemies.

“I’ll handle it. Just lay low tonight,” I finally said.

The fleeting look of relief on Sandu’s face was unmistakable, but he quickly schooled his features. “But Christoph Junior said—”

“It’s good, you trying to do the right thing. But I will handle this. Now go,” I said, holding his eye.

He nodded, finally relented, and then left. When I was alone again, I paced the suddenly too-small room, turning this latest challenge over in my head.

Sandu’s impulse was correct. It was his responsibility, his duty, and mine, to follow orders, to do as instructed. That was the vow I had taken. To violate it was a slap in the face of all that I believed, of all that I had dedicated my life to.

But I had also sworn to protect Clan Constantin, the men I considered brothers, and sending them on this errand would be folly.

I stalked out of the office, headed directly to Christoph Junior.











Anton





“You want some of this?”

Christoph Junior lifted the small mirror that held four neat rows of white powder toward me, and I shook my head quickly. From his glassy eyes and demeanor, I assumed he’d had enough for both of us.

“What a surprise. You don’t fuck, and you don’t enjoy a little sniff. No wonder you’re so fucking uptight.”

This was not an unfamiliar conversation, and given our current problem and Christoph Junior’s state, now wasn’t the time to repeat it.

“Tonight. What’s supposed to happen?”

I glared down at Christoph Junior, felt like I could literally see his mind trying to process the question. Then he snapped to attention. “Oh yeah. Testing out a new crew, see if I like the product and whether we can work with them.”

He seemed to be enjoying the test, so much so that I doubted anything else would sway him, certainly not matters as small as what risk this “new crew” might pose to the clan. His irresponsibility was only slightly surprising but deeply disgusting.

“What do you know about them?” I asked.

“I know they have good product,” Christoph Junior said with a shrug as he nodded toward the white powder, “and they’re hungry. With all the shit the Peruvians are in, they see an opportunity and so do I.”

“You’re expanding operations to include drugs?” I asked, keeping my tone even, though I was enraged. Christoph Senior had stayed away from drugs for over three decades, and less than a week into his tenure, Junior was diving into them headlong, no planning, no thought for what doing so would mean for us all, the increased scrutiny from law enforcement and other clans, the instability that introducing so much cash into the equation so quickly would cause.

Christoph Junior paused, his expression taking on an entirely different bent. “Why so many questions?”

“I like to know what I’m going into. To have a plan,” I said.

He stood then, put both hands flat on his desk—his father’s desk—and leaned toward me. “I know what you’re going into. And that’s all that matters. Because I’m in charge, remember?”

“Yes, I do,” I said. And we were all worse for it.

“So you’ll do as you’re told,” he said, voice too much of a whine to be menacing though he tried his best.

I kept my gaze on his, tried to bite down the anger that now churned in my gut. Christoph Junior was testing me, no doubt having decided that I would make an excellent example. An opportunity to punish me harshly would send quite the message to the rest of Clan Constantin, would leave no doubt that he was in charge.

But I wouldn’t let that happen. So, anger notwithstanding, I nodded tightly. “I will,” I said.