“Did you think I had a bomb under the chairs in my own home?” Riccardo demanded, striving to look as if it was a joke.
“The possibility occurred to us,” Val answered for all three. “I’m not going to beat around the bush, Riccardo. We have evidence that your family, specifically your son Carlo, ordered a hit on Elie, Dario, Elie’s wife and me. Brielle was nearly killed in the last attack on her. To say you stirred up a firestorm is an understatement. Both Elie and Brielle are connected to the Ferraro family. I married into it. Emme, my wife, is demanding justice. You have no idea what that family is capable of. You can order all the hits in the world on them, but I will guarantee, your entire family, every man, woman and child, will be wiped out in a single night. You know their reputation.”
Riccardo listened attentively, his expression sorrowful. “I hear you, Valentino. The situation is dire. I heard what happened to Dino Colombo. Killed in his home with his father and mother and wife right there. No one saw or heard anything. His security was intact. Nothing was caught on camera. The reputation of the Ferraro family is always something we take into consideration and we all strive to avoid any contact with them.”
He sighed, looked down at his hands and then spread his fingers wide before looking up again. “I have an alliance with the Toselli family in Barcelona. My son Carlo is married to Arnau’s daughter, Valeria. I have two grandchildren by them. They live here on the estate with me. My daughter Claudia is married to Arnau’s son Guillem and they also have two children together. They live in Barcelona, where I can’t protect them. Do you see my problem?”
In a gesture very reminiscent of Stefano, Valentino steepled his fingers and he looked over the top of them, one eyebrow raised. “No, Riccardo, I don’t. Are you saying Toselli threatened your daughter and grandchildren? He forced you to do his bidding by trading Elie’s wife and our lives for your daughter and grandchildren?”
Put like that, the head of the Santoro crime family would detest looking weak in front of Val and Dario. For just one moment anger darkened Riccardo’s eyes, a resentment that promised retaliation toward Valentino, but was quickly gone. He had learned to school his features over the years of running his organization. Riccardo’s gaze flicked to Elie, who didn’t change expressions.
“In essence, yes.” Riccardo nodded his head sorrowfully.
“You didn’t think to take this to the council; you just made the decision to order the hit on all of us?” Val’s tone was mild, as if it mattered little that the man he faced had been responsible for the near death of Elie’s wife.
“Not when my daughter is there in Barcelona and I can’t get to her.” Now Riccardo poured steel into his voice. “The attack on your wife was unfortunate, Elie. I tried to rescind the order, but I believe I was countermanded by Arnau Toselli himself. I don’t know why.”
Valentino looked at Elie, who shook his head. “You did rescind the order and it was countermanded by Toselli, but you’re lying. You do know why he wants Brielle dead. I want to know the reason. It’s in your best interests to tell me, Riccardo.”
All pretense of civility evaporated in an instant. Riccardo Santoro dropped his mask of a sweet, aging senior trying to negotiate a settlement between families. He became the consummate crime boss, a man who had ruled his territory for years with an iron fist. His enemies had never been given quarter and never would.
He leaned toward Val, his eyes almost wild. “You are an upstart, just learning to lead. You know nothing at all. Did you think you could come into my home with your veiled threats and scare me? Out of respect for your father and uncle, I had thought to come to some kind of agreement between us, but you brought this man with you.” He waved his arm toward Elie. “He is nothing. Not part of us and yet you treat him as family. His wife is a liability to us. He is a liability. The only thing we should be talking about is the matter between the Saldi family and the Santoro family.”
There was a small silence. Elie was silent. His dark gaze moved over Riccardo Santoro. Then he smiled. “It wouldn’t have mattered to me what you said anyway, you ignorant fatuous prick. You nearly killed my wife. As far as I’m concerned, you and your family as well as the Toselli family have earned everything coming to you and I intend to see that you get it.” He stood up, his smile cruel. “Talk away, gentlemen. Just know, Santoro, that one by one, you’ll see everything you love taken away before I take you last.”
“You dare threaten me?” Riccardo Santoro demanded, standing up so violently that he knocked his chair back against the wall.
Ignoring the man’s outrage, Elie opened the office door, back and shoulders straight, closing the door softly behind him. Swearing and red-faced with fury, Santoro stormed over to the door and yanked it open. There was no sign of Elie. He looked up and down the wide empty hallway, sputtering, then called for his security. They came at once, having been only a few feet from the office.
After a brief, furious interrogation from their boss, the guards insisted they hadn’t seen Elie or anyone else emerge from the office. They vowed to sweep the house immediately and look at all the security tapes. Santoro turned back to Valentino and Dario. Neither man had moved.
“Who is that man?” Santoro demanded.
“I am certain I mentioned to you that the Ferraros have a very healthy respect for Elie’s family.” He waved that away. “We came here today out of respect for the years you have given to our organization.” Val stood up. “Did you honestly think you could put out a hit on Dario and me and we would simply ignore it, Riccardo? Given your history, I would never believe this would be the end of it. You would continue to come after us.”
“No, no. I am prepared to offer you a partnership. A very lucrative partnership, Valentino. You young people are so fast at making up your minds. There are always ways to fix these problems without bloodshed or going to war. Take advice from an old hand at this. Sit back down and listen to reason. You just were at war with your Uncle Miceli. How many men were lost? And, Dario? You are still in the process of weeding out the old guard. It is useless to continue to shed blood when we can come to terms.”
Valentino made a show of reluctantly taking a seat. The more they heard, the more they learned. Riccardo Santoro believed himself invincible. He had already dismissed the threat Elie Archambault or the Ferraros might bring to his family. He’d been in his position, one of strength, for far too long and he didn’t believe anyone would seriously try to harm him or any member of his family.
“I believe you know why Brielle Archambault was put on the hit list,” Val stated. He kept his voice low. He had a gift for compelling others to want to talk to him. He used it sparingly so no one ever questioned why they would suddenly offer him information they would otherwise never reveal. “Let’s start there.”
“She’s nosy. She sent a report to Interpol giving specifics about our freighters. She even traced them to us. No one has ever connected us to those shipments before. But more than that, she apparently has ‘confused’ one of Toselli’s most trusted men. Toselli wants her dead so there’s no more confusion. He doesn’t like his men being loyal to anyone but him.”
Val nodded. “That’s understandable. You can’t have your men divide their loyalty.”
Riccardo smiled at him. “I’m happy to hear you say that, Valentino. I knew you could be reasonable. These things can be worked out. Had we done so from the beginning, I assure you, this misunderstanding would never have occurred.”
Val raised an eyebrow. “The ‘misunderstanding’ being the hits you put out on Dario and me.”
Riccardo waved that away. “You have to understand the business is no longer what it used to be. We can’t run around carrying guns and threatening people anymore. Everything is very different. Always you want to look good for the press. You can’t ever afford to look as though you’re dirty. You must appear to be a do-gooder. Be into charities. Have your wife be on all the boards for cancer—all the things that will make you look good. Anything to do with children. Sponsor the hell out of that crap. You’re lucky, because you’re getting in on the ground floor. I already had a reputation, but you’re just starting out in the business. You can look clean. Legit.”
Val watched the man come out from behind his desk, animated now that he had an audience. He perched on the end of his desk, facing the windows. “Look at it, Val. It can all belong to you and Dario. Your generation. That’s what I tell my son. Play your cards right. Get in on the ground floor. We’ve got the connections. We’ve got the ships. We already know what we’re doing. Trafficking is a billion-dollar industry. Billions.”
There it was. He was going to offer them a deal. Val had been certain he would. It wouldn’t occur to him, in spite of the war he’d started with Miceli, that Val would never take it. A man like Santoro was certain Valentino wanted the territory.
Riccardo waited for a reaction. Val kept all expression from his face. “I’m listening.”
“We supply to Europe. They supply to us. We just swap the merchandise. The family in Europe has freighters and we have ours. We meet off the coast and off-load the merchandise to smaller freighters to take it to small ports where it’s easy to smuggle it in. We already have the officials in place we need. It’s a smooth operation. No one has come close to suspecting us.”