Maybe he only regretted his actions because I became a billionaire. I could be taking care of him right now, buying him a yacht so he could sail the Mediterranean with my mother. Or maybe he genuinely regretted his decision, that it haunted him every day until he couldn’t take it anymore.
Either way, it was the closure I’d always wanted.
Maybe Siena was entitled to the same thing.
The meeting had been set.
I walked into their lair with my men in tow. When my men were asked to drop their weapons, we refused.
I didn’t drop my weapons for anyone.
My stubbornness wasn’t challenged, and I was led inside. In the center of the room sat Micah. About Giovanni’s age, he was several decades older than me, and all the smoking had turned his skin to shit. Damien lingered behind him like the little bitch that he was.
Micah stood up but didn’t come closer. There were ten feet separating us. “Nice to see you’re in one piece.”
“I was hoping you’d be in several.” Siena and I had left the shootout before it turned ugly. There were a few causalities and blown-up tanks, but the important players survived—unfortunately. But once a war had been ignited, it never ended.
Micah shrugged. “Not all wishes come true—even when you blow out the candles. So, what can I do for you?”
My eyes moved to Damien, and I remembered what Siena had said several times, that the guy threatened to rape her and kill her. That he wanted her to fail just so he could have her. I wanted to snap his neck then and there. I turned back to Micah. “I’m here for a truce.”
Micah cocked an eyebrow instead of keeping a straight face. I wasn’t the kind of man to call a truce. I destroyed my enemies until there was nothing left—at all costs. “A truce?” he asked, like he didn’t understand the word.
“Yes. We can forget this whole thing.”
Micah crossed his arms over his chest, trying to understand my angle. “In exchange for what? Money?”
“We both know I already have all the money.”
His nostrils flared.
“Give me Stefano Russo’s body. That’s it.”
Micah cocked his head to the side. “You’re calling a truce over a corpse? That’s all you want?”
“Yes. Hand it over, or tell me where I can find it.”
Damien gave me the same disgusted look I gave him. “Damn, she must be something in bed…”
My eyes flicked back to his, and I silently threatened him.
“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” Damien said. “For that bitch?”
Quicker than Damien could react, I pulled the pistol out of my belt and shot him in the left shoulder.
“Jesus!” Damien staggered back and clutched himself.
All my men drew their weapons.
So did Micah’s.
“What the fuck, asshole?” Damien screamed, the blood dripping down his arm to his hand.
I returned the pistol to my belt. “An eye for an eye. Or better yet, a shoulder for a shoulder.” I looked at Micah. “We have a deal or what?”
Damien gripped his shoulder as he walked away, probably to attend to his gaping wound.
Micah nodded. “Yes. We have a deal.”
Bates was standing outside when I pulled up to the house. It was ten in the evening, so he’d obviously heard about my deal with Micah. It was the only reason he would stand like a gargoyle outside my house.
I walked up the stairs and met him face-to-face.
His eyes looked like bullets. “What the fuck, Cato?”
“Let it go, alright?”
“Let it go?” he hissed. “Are you fucking with me right now? Since when do we call truces with assholes who try to assassinate you?”
“They were never a threat to us.”
“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how we treat our enemies.”
“It wasn’t worth our time.” I stepped around him and headed into the house.
He grabbed me by the arm and yanked me back. “We make these decisions together, asshole. Not only did you not tell me, but you did it behind my back.”
“I knew you would never agree. And what I do to the people who try to kill me is my business. This had nothing to do with work or a deal, so no, I didn’t need your approval. It’s done now, so drop it.”
“Maybe in another situation, I could drop it, but you did this entirely for her. The woman who stabbed you in the back as she fucked you. But here you are, laying down your coat on a puddle so her feet don’t get wet.”
I didn’t bend over backward for this woman, despite what he thought. “She deserves closure.”
“That bitch doesn’t deserve anything.”
“They gave her a mission she never would have accomplished. Either way, she lost and her father died. It was a lose-lose for her. Everyone deserves closure. Her father was slaughtered, and she just wants to bury him. It’s not that much to ask.”
“It is when you have to call a truce to make it happen.” Spit flew from his mouth as the cord in his neck throbbed.