Chapter 11 (Marco)

His grey-brown eyes frown at me, jaw ticking. Lorenzo is young, with lots of potential, but hot-headed and hot-head people get killed.

I happen to need him alive and well. He is the good son. He is going to be a lawyer. We never have enough of those. Deno has already done 6 months in prison while we found a soldier to take his place and plead guilty. It was a small-time away from home, and he needed it at 21, but still shouldn’t have happened.

Deno walks toward us, and I see the young man has stopped moving altogether, openly watching us. I don't mind as he is the one who offered me this information for protection.

Such protection was costly, especially from a Stone. The Stone family is one of The Elites. A group of powerful families who own their own town and live by their own rules.

They also paid handsomely for artifacts and other stuff we felt needed to stay in safe hands that didn’t sweat when a CIA agent came peeping, or some bad men decided they wanted something to sell.

The Elites belonged to their own, and we kept ties with them open.

But Michael Stone isn’t just a Stone, he is a genius technologist with a liking for valuable pieces and Luke Lore is very valuable, much more than any penny or pound. Which is the reason I allowed Luke to wear out my fucking carpet while I savored a few glasses of brandy enjoying his show.

Deno holds Lorenzo's t-shirt covered shoulder, his ring sticking out.

“Oh, brother, how do I explain it to you? These men are like mice who just made it past the door, if we strike now, they’ll scurry away and hide. Mice are hard to catch when their guards are up. So, we leave it alone, make them think we know shit, so they get comfortable while we lay our traps…”

“Then we strike to kill,” I end for Deno.

Every enemy has a weakness, and every territory has its games, because that is precisely what it is, one big fucking game.

Our territory, especially Seattle, happens to be a popular game these passing years. There were 3 kings, who owned a bit of everything, a few Princes, who held the promise of future leaders and an army waiting patiently in the shadows for its Queen. Then there is me, I rule over the Kings, control the Princes from afar, and wait patiently for The Shadows and Queen to belong to me.

I am the villain with devils' eyes, and unlike many, I have a prize jewel in my possession.

“Why don’t you put that nice suit Amberlo made for you and get ready for tonight. Vince is bringing your lady, she can spend the evening. Tomorrow I have a job for you and your friends. Take Luke with you, show him his room, will you?” I say knowing the hard look he is blessing me with is the silent fuck me he wants to say but wouldn’t because I will smash his fucking teeth if he did.

I wait for Lorenzo to storm off, the door slamming behind him only to open again as the lanky young man leaves too, closing the door softly.

Deno shoves his hands in his pocket, his hazel gaze stuck on me. The slight tilt of that fucking shoulder of his as he places his elbow on the bar. He looks like my father when he does that shit pose.

“We were just like him, he’s going to start shit. You do know DeMarco is going to be swearing a fucking storm when Gabriel and Ren start huge fucking shit with these fuckers, right?”

“Of course not. All I know is that I told him to get ready for tonight, what he does after that isn’t our fucking business.”

“Fuckin’ hell Marco.”