Fallen Empire (Dirty Empire)

There it is. “You’ll get your money.” Courtesy of the stash houses we cleared out.

“And the next shipment?”

“We won’t be taking any more shipments until further notice.” As in, forever. “Our networks are crumbling, our manpower being picked off; there’s too much volatility right now. This will keep happening.”

“You’re going completely dry?” There’s no mistaking the surprise in his voice. The Eastons don’t halt supply. Ever.

“Yes.”

“This is Vlad’s decision?”

“My father is reckless, as he’s just proven. He just cost us six million dollars. He’s no longer making decisions for this family.”

“So the cubs are finally confronting the lion.” There’s a long pause. “And Peter—”

“Betrayed our father.” I leave it at that. “I’m sure you can find another buyer for your product.”

“There are always people to take my product, though I enjoyed the mutually beneficial relationship with your family.” He puffs on something—a cigar, is my guess—and I hold my breath as I wait for the next words out of his mouth. Will he make ending this business relationship difficult or easy? That’s been the only real wild card in my hand all along “But I can appreciate why you would be hesitant, given all the turmoil I’ve been hearing about north of the border. And now that Peter is gone and Vlad has lost his magic touch, I also find myself hesitant.”

I knew discrediting our father in his eyes would be essential. “Are we good here?”

Two distinctive pops sound from inside the shed, one after another, and I know someone has delivered justice for Mike.

“As long as I get my money.”

“It’ll be on its way within the hour.”

“Then we’re good. I wish you well. And maybe our paths will cross one day.” Eduardo ends the call, leaving me listening to dead air and feeling the invisible hundred-pound lead weight lift from my chest.

It’s done.

Uncle Peter and our cousins, gone.

Navarro, gone.

Bane, gone.

Mercy and her father, safe.

Agent Lewis has no case against us—at least not through Mercy.

Every threat to us has been handled.

All, but one.

The door creaks as Caleb, Merrick, and Vince emerge from the shed.

“I think I broke a knuckle.” Caleb holds his bloodied and bruised hands out in front of him as he falls into step beside me, heading back along a path through the orchard toward the house. Tension still radiates off his shoulders. My brother pretends he enjoys exacting revenge, but the truth is he’s going to hit the bottle and the powder hard tonight to quiet the voices that tug at his conscience.

“You totally broke a knuckle.” Merrick slides a smoke from a pack and tucks it between his lips, before holding the pack out to Caleb. “You want me to teach you how to throw a punch?”

“Yeah, let me practice on your face.” Caleb takes a cigarette and then nods to me. “Was that Eduardo?”

I smirk. “Yup. Wants his money.”

“That fucking bastard.” Caleb chuckles. “I still think we should have moved the drop and gone through with the deal. Now the damn DEA has all our money and our coke.”

I shake my head. “It’s better this way.” How would I have looked Mercy in the eye, had I done that? It was one thing when we were reaping the rewards, but I don’t ever want her to think of me as a drug dealer. I look to Merrick. “Hey, give us a minute?”

With a brief glance at Caleb, the two Perris move ahead.

“What’s wrong now?” Caleb mutters.

“Ava’s delivered on everything else she’s promised. She’s going to follow through on Dad.”

“Oh, Ava.” He ends that thought on a sigh. “Can’t wait to see what’s under that little bikini.”

I roll my eyes. Leave it to Caleb to go straight to pussy after putting a bullet in someone. “My point is, why do you need to see the old man one more time before this is done?”

Smoke sails from his lips into the evening sky. “I need to see the look on his ugly face the moment he realizes he’s lost everything. I’ve waited years to see that. Don’t you want to see that, after all he’s put you through?”

“I thought I did. But now, all I want is for it to be over so we can move on with our lives.” So I can move on with Mercy.

We walk in oddly peaceful silence, past Ava’s men. They nod as we pass. I guess we’re not a threat to them anymore, even armed. If I let my ego dwell on that for too long, I might get offended. The Easton name has always meant money, power, and a healthy dose of fearful respect.

We reach the pools just as the property lights kick in, casting an inviting purplish glow over the water. Mercy is floating on her back, wearing a borrowed bathing suit—I assume lent to her by Ava. She looks like a goddess, her raven black hair fanning out around her head.