Top Dog

“And I know what I want, so I’m going after it. That isn’t the real issue. The issue here is that you wanted this arsenal to gun down whoever got in your way because you’re power hungry like the rest of the men that worked for my father. So let me tell you something. The Martine family owns half this fucking city. Our renters? They pay us. And when they have issues, they look to us for guidance and help. My father’s been bleeding them dry for decades in exchange for promising them cleaner streets. But all my father did was gun down men he thought were guilty. While employing the men who were actually guilty of the crimes.

James and Donald looked at one another before nodding their heads.

“The fuck was that?” I asked.

“People respect us because they fear us. Your father understood that concept,” Donald said.

“And now my father’s dead,” I said.

“There’s no reason to change the status quo. Everyone’s used to our presence.”

“So then why do you need the guns if they’re used to your presence?” I asked.

“You’re too soft,” James said. “You want to run a legitimate business, but you’ve had criminals working for you for damn near a year. So if you can’t run this operation the way your father saw fit, then maybe you need to step aside and let someone else take over.”

“Someone that will do it like it needs to be done,” Donald said.

“What? Like you?” I asked.

The man rolled his shoulders back making my vision drip red. That was what this was about. These two goons who had worked with my father since he first took over felt they were entitled to sit in his fucking seat now that he was dead. I slowly walked around my desk, my fists balled at my sides. I locked eyes with Donald and he faltered, taking a step back when he saw the anger behind my stare.

I reached out and fisted the man’s shirt and brought his piggish face to mine.

“You don’t like the fact that I’m trying to clean up my family’s act?” I asked.

“Sir, that isn’t what—”

“If you really wanted to live by my father’s rules, then you would know that the one thing he hated more than cowardice was a man that backtracked on his word. A man who didn’t own up to the opinion he had,” I said.

“Mr. Martine, what Donald was trying to say—”

“Silence!”

Donald’s eyes squeezed shut, and he turned his head away from me. I released him from my grasp, and he rolled his shoulders and smoothed down his jacket. I felt anger rushing through my veins as I closed my eyes. I felt myself on the outskirts of uncontrollable rage. I had to keep my promise. I had to clean up this family’s act. I had to change, and for the better, so I could be with Julia.

Be with my son.

Be with the family I’d created.

“Told you he wouldn’t do anything,” Donald said.

And my eyes snapped open at his words.

In an instant, I whipped around and brought my fist into his face. He fell back into the wall, and I lunged at him, my teeth bared and my eyes wide. I pummeled him until I finally came to my senses and tossed him onto the floor.

James fell to his side and helped him up, and I watched as blood dripped from Donald’s mouth onto his suit.

“Get the fuck out,” I said as I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket. “Because if you can’t support me, then you can go find someone else to work for.”

Then the two men stumbled out of my office without another word uttered.

I clenched my jaw as I cleaned the blood off my hand. Fuck. I couldn’t believe I’d lost control like that. How the hell was I supposed to be the man and the father Julia and Matteo needed if I couldn't even control my fucking temper? The longer I sat in my father’s chair, the more I was turning into him. Into the angry, tyrannical man I’d known him to be in his later years. I threw the handkerchief against the wall and let it fall to the floor.

I walked over to my chair and sat down, then put my face in my hands.

I was losing my family. I took two steps forward only to be thrown right back to the beginning. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes to keep myself rooted in reality. I didn’t see a way out of this. I couldn't continue beating people into submission and putting bullets between people’s eyes, but my father had brainwashed all of them. Into loyalty. Into subservience. Into running the streets with fear instead of legitimate business practices. And if I fired everyone, they would seek out employment elsewhere and divulge secrets that could cost me my entire family.

But if I kept them, I had to find a way to control them.