“We’ve been so busy trying to find out about the hit on Winter’s head, that we didn’t even think that the cartel was probably only using it as a distraction,” he spits out, his eyes narrowed.
I don’t remind him that the hit on Winter’s head isn’t only a distraction, but very real. Now isn’t the time for the conversation, and last I heard, Lucia had a lead on the job.
“We’re going to have to clear out the whole factory,” I tell him. “We don’t know how much of the supply they’ve gotten to, and we can’t take the risk of sending it out. A few overdoses are one thing, but if more people with our shit up their noses end up in the morgue, word is going to get out and people are going to stop buying from us.”
“We’re going to lose a lot of fucking money,” Gio snaps.
I don’t let his temper bother me, keeping my cool. This is my job. I fix things, even when Giovanni doesn’t agree with the method.
“We’ll lose even more if we start to look like an unreliable seller. We have to think about the long game,” I remind him. “We’ll have to close down selling for a few weeks, at best, get everything cleared out and disposed of.” I tap my fingers against my thigh, thinking. “Probably need to get rid of the factory workers as well, from the bottom up.”
“A bullet each.”
I shake my head, “No, we can’t go dropping two dozen bodies into the river. The only one we’ll need to dispose of is Adam. He’s at the top of the food chain and I don’t trust him to be as uninvolved in all of this as he claimed.”
“Question him before you kill him then,” he says. “Take Maximo with you.”
Words I never want to hear.
Giovanni pulls his phone from his pocket, shaking his head. “I’ll just have him meet you at the warehouse with Enzo.”
“And Winter? Who will stay with her if Enzo is with us?”
Giovanni pauses, his lips pressing down into a frown. “Winter isn’t your concern, Vito. I let the fight go the other night because Polo Messano shouldn’t have had his hands on her. But I told you once before, if you start to get too close to her, I’ll put a stop to it.” His eyes meet mine, no emotion in them. “Is that understood?”
“Yes,” I bite out. “I understand. I promise I’m not getting too close to Winter.”
I don’t buy into the lie and from the look on Giovanni’s face, neither does he.
***
“Oh, Adam!” The joy in Maximo’s voice is hard to miss and the pep in his step is a prelude to bad beginnings.
I press my lips together, shaking my head as I follow him. Enzo trails behind me, but I don’t turn around to look at him, instead watching the uncaged monster in front of me.
Maximo is bad when he’s leashed and sneaking to do his shit, but when Gio sets him free, there isn’t a prayer or hope that can save his target from damnation.
He slams through the door leading into the production room of the warehouse. As the door collides with the wall, yells of fear emanate from inside. I grab one of the gas masks from the table that’s off to the side of the entrance.
Maximo can play with his lungs, but I sure as shit am not willing to take the risk.
“If you’re smart, you’ll put one on,” I tell Enzo without turning around.
I nearly collide with a crying woman as she tries to run out of the room. I lock my hands around her arms, doing a once over. She’s wearing a bra and panties and a clear apron that exposes her smooth skin. A gas mask sits on her face.
I spin, shoving her toward Enzo who catches her. “She stays and so do the rest of them,” I tell him, nodding in the general direction of the rest of the workers. They seem to have the common sense to not try to run, even though it’s clear they’re scared, from the way they stare at Maximo as he waltzes through the room.
Adam is backing up, cowering away from him. “Adam,” Maximo says, calmer this time, as he steps toe to toe with the man. “It seems you know that you’ve fucked up.” He stares down at Adam, patting his shoulder.
I move closer, my eyes darting around the room. “No one leaves,” I announce again, making it clear. “If you try to run, you’ll get a bullet in the head.”
Not a lie. I may have been against killing all the workers, but insubordination can’t be tolerated.
They all knew what they were signing up for when they came to work for us. Whether they came willingly or unwillingly, they knew the score.
Obey or die.
I don’t make the rules, but I sure as shit enforce them.