“The hell it isn’t. If I set this up and you fail, he’s gonna know what I did. Then he will kill me. You’ve got Mateo Morelli’s army at your disposal—why do this alone?”
“Because I don’t know who I can fucking trust anymore, Ethan. We’ve had some bumps in the road lately and I’d rather show up to this showdown not having to worry that my own fucking people are going to turn on me.”
“Oh.”
“I also don’t want him to see me coming. I bring an army, that’s not exactly subtle, now, is it?”
“Well… he usually brings Little John with him wherever he goes, but Little John went down with the Morelli attempt.” Glancing at me, as if this is news, he says, “You don’t shoot at a boss and live to tell the story.”
I meet his gaze dryly. “Thank you for that lesson in my own lifestyle, Ethan; I had no idea.”
“You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
“Not if he shows up without a guard.”
Ethan pulls his phone out, sighing, and stares at it for a moment. He’s full of reluctance, but oddly it seems less like he’s worried about crossing his father-in-law and more about me. Which, considering I’ve never met this man in my life, surprises me. Clearly I’m not accustomed to being around people who are still in touch with their humanity.
“What if we switch?”
Uncomprehending, I frown. “Switch what?”
“Assuming he brings a guard, and assuming you could take care of them quietly… what if I meet with Antonio? What if you take out the guards… and I shoot him?”
“You ever killed a man before?”
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
“This isn’t a good try-out.”
“I know what’s on the line,” he states, looking at me. “I won’t change my mind.”
“It’s not as easy as you might think,” I tell him. “Especially not the first time. Evil bastard or not, it’s not a fucking video game. You’re not prepared.”
“Well, maybe there’s no guard, then I won’t have to. Then you can take care of it. All I know is, we both have better chances if mine is the face Antonio sees.”
I go over his plan in my head, and I kinda like it. I don’t know if I can depend on him to pull the trigger when it comes down to it, but depending on the layout, this might be doable. Too many variables to be sure. I don’t know where we’re meeting, I don’t know if his guard will be directly near him or just keeping watch—there are a lot of fucking variables. It’s got better odds than mine though, assuming he has soldiers with him.
“All right,” I agree with a nod. “Let’s do it.”
Ethan gets out of the car to make the call, which I’m not terribly comfortable with. Could be he’s setting me up, but I don’t get that feeling from his vibe or his language. He specifically said he works for Salvatore, not Antonio—and Salvatore doesn’t have his own crew. He’s an underboss, same as Mateo technically should’ve been before Matt died, but we aren’t bound by the same rules of leadership as Salvatore’s family. If Ethan did work for Salvatore, he was technically doing work for Antonio, but he didn’t want to claim that because he doesn’t like the old man. You don’t naturally put that kind of distance between yourself and someone unless there’s a whole lot of dislike there.
I also just don’t think Ethan’s very deceptive. I had different expectations of the guy coming in—he doesn’t look so good on paper. But having met him, he’s actually pretty okay.
Opening the car door, he drops back into his seat, actually looking a little excited. “All right, he’s gonna meet me.”
“You’re sure?” I ask, catching his gaze.
“Yep.”
I feel like I’ve been trying to kill this bastard half my life. It hasn’t been that long, but it feels like forever. It feels a little surreal to consider it might actually be coming to a close.
“Well, what did he say? Where are we meeting him? Does he expect just you?”
“Not just me. Me and two others, but all harmless. He won’t be on guard. I even made up a diversion so he’d send some guys elsewhere.”
“An obvious diversion?” I ask sharply.
Shaking his head, he turns the key in the ignition. “It went with my story.” Then, meeting my gaze, he says, “Relax, Adrian; this isn’t my first rodeo, either.”
—
We’re halfway to Castellanos when Mateo calls me.
I think about not answering, but Mateo hates being ignored.
“Yeah?” I answer, determined to at least keep it short.
“Adrian.” His tone is terse, and I instantly go on alert. “How far are you from the bakery?”
“The bakery?” I ask, eyebrows rising. “I’m nowhere near it. Why?”
“Fuck,” he mutters. “All right. Where are you? I need you to meet me somewhere.”
“I can’t meet you anywhere right now,” I tell him. “I’ve got my hands full with something else. Can you call Alec instead?”