Fallen Empire (Dirty Empire)

His brow is furrowed as if he doubts that. I can’t blame him. We have a right, and probably an obligation, to be suspicious of everyone at this moment. “Did you talk to Navarro himself?”

“No, to his right hand. Mateo Estrada.” A young-sounding Mexican guy with a smooth voice and a surprisingly pleasant demeanor. Not that that means he’s above brutally murdering his enemies along with their loved ones.

“Oh, you mean the prick that was probably in our club last night, holding a bag over Mike’s head?” Caleb collects a mouthful of smoke and releases it in a perfect ring. “The sooner I can kill the fucker, the better.”

“We’re trying to work a truce, Caleb,” I remind him.

“So what? We just let them get away with killing Mike? No, there needs to be retribution.”

He sounds like our father. And, truth be told, the need for revenge is burning inside me, too. But if we hit back, when will it end? “I don’t know. What I do know is that we can’t have a repeat of Vegas.”

He throws his hands in the air. “Solved some big problems, delivered some long-needed justice, didn’t it?”

“And created some new, potentially bigger ones.” A triple murder in our hotel room, with witnesses. “Do I need to do this alone?”

“Do what alone?” Mercy saunters in from her goodbyes with Michelle, hugging herself as if warding off the cold.

Instinctively I reach out for her, and she comes to me, curling her arms around my torso, nestling her face against into my neck to press a kiss there. I was ready to punch Caleb earlier for beating down my door and dragging me away from this perfect creature. All I want to do is crawl back into bed and get tangled up in her warm, naked body.

“Nothing important. Just business,” Caleb says through a puff. It’s his usual dismissive answer, an attempt to keep everyone in the dark. It’s the same thing Dad always said to our mother. It’s been engrained in us.

But those days are over. “I have no secrets from Mercy anymore.” To her, I explain what’s going on, all the while ignoring Caleb’s eyes burning into the side of my face.

Her forehead wrinkles with concern. “So, you’re going to meet with this cartel leader who has made it clear he wants to take over your territory and who keeps killing off your people to get it, so you can ask him nicely to leave you alone?”

“Exactly!” Caleb waves his hands dramatically. “Thank you, Mercy! Please tell him what a colossally bad idea this is.”

“I don’t usually agree with your brother, but this doesn’t sound smart, Gabriel.”

I spear Caleb with a glare. “We don’t have a choice. We need to look Navarro in the eye and tell him that they are welcome to take over Vlad Easton’s territory. We need to hand it to him on a silver platter, and we need to do that before my father has a chance to hit back in a way that will ensure there could never be peace.” Thankfully, with Bane, Ivan, and JJ gone, Dad’s pool of skilled hitmen and goons has grown shallow, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s to never underestimate him.

She pauses, biting her bottom lip in thought. “Will it be safe? For you, I mean?”

“We’ll choose neutral ground, lots of witnesses.” I force confidence in my voice for Mercy’s benefit. Navarro is known to be a loose cannon who drinks too much and makes rash judgments, so I’m confident a meeting with him will end either with a handshake and a cigar or two deep holes for us.

“Okay.” She sets her chin. “Then I’m coming, too.”

Caleb bursts out with a bark of laughter. “Oh my God, you two are perfect for each other. You’re both insane.”

“No, Mercy—” I begin, but she cuts me off.

“If it’s safe like you say it is, then there shouldn’t be any issue with me being there—”

“No.”

“But I—”

“No. You’re staying here where you’ll be safe.”

Anger and fear flash in her eyes. “So then you just lied to me and where you’re going is not safe, is that what you’re telling me?”

I groan. She set me up for that one. “No, that’s not what I’m—”

“What happened to our deal? The one where you promised me you wouldn’t do something stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s the right move!” Frankly, it’s our only option.

“And this is why girlfriends and wives don’t get involved in our business,” Caleb chirps between puffs, which earns a glare from Mercy and a surrendering gesture and shrug from him.

I’m about to holler at him to shut the hell up, when a phone chimes.

All three of us turn toward the burner resting on the bar.

Bane’s phone.

My stomach tenses. Surely, there’s only one person who’d be calling it. The question is, why?