“I always finish what I fucking start; make no mistake about that. We’ll leave this shit up to Catarina. She’s an adult, right?” I didn’t wait for him to answer as I continued, “She decides. As far as us—you and me—I’m not discussing this shit another second. Fuck, I haven’t even seen her a full hour yet, and you’re giving me shit about her. How in the hell do I have any clue what is going to happen? Whatever happens, though, Val, you need to stay out of it. Understood?”

He clenched his jaw, clearly not liking anything I had to say. The entire conversation was weird to me. Why the hell was he warding me off something I hadn’t even gone for yet? The problem with that was she only intrigued me more. Him warding me off of her only dragged the pull I felt toward her deeper.

“Val, let it go. He’s right,” Ace chimed in. “If she wants to fuck him, she can. What’s the harm in it, anyway? After tonight, she’ll know better than to put her heart on the line.”

His words pissed me off. It felt like he was saying I wasn’t fucking good enough for Catarina. However, I let the comment go and peered at Ace in the front seat. From his profile, no malice was intended from his words, but shit if it didn’t cut me. I was definitely good enough for her, probably the fucking best. Fuck, listen to me. This whole conversation needed to end.

“Fine. I’ll be here to clean up the shit-filled mess after it’s over,” Val grumbled, looking out the window like a petulant child, making me wonder how the hell he was running his crew here. Surely he didn’t act like that all the time, because if he did, there were bigger problems there than his sister.

***

I needed to get my ass moving. Breakfast had to wait, but coffee was a must. There was no way in hell I would be late to a meeting with Remeo Capella and give him any excuses to call me out. He had called this fucking meeting months ago, and after the events of the night before, I was sure he would be pissed as hell and have even more to discuss.

I called in Dan and Brett, my other guard, last night and had them bring in some reinforcements. I took no fucking chances with my safety. Don’t get me wrong, I could take care of myself, but with the actions taken last night, anything was possible.

When I got the call from Remeo, I wondered why, after all this time of pushing Lambardoni product from the West Coast, he was dead insistent that I come and meet with him personally, especially having Vino and Sal so close by. After bringing up my suspicions to the boss and underboss, they had a talk with him.

Apparently, he wanted to expand his distribution channels, but he wanted a face-to-face with me because I handled that part of the business. I was actually surprised Vino and Sal had let him get away with that shit, but they all went way back, so I was there and I would deal.

“Arms up.” The beefy guy had nothing on Dan who was to my left, ready to take out this asshole.

Dan could wipe the slate clean with this joker who thought he was some type of badass from the way he stood with his spine straight and a blank air of authority around him. I stared into his eyes, and a spark flashed within them. Set-up clattered in my head. No fucking way.

“No. If Capella sees me, I’m armed, and my men are armed, or the meeting doesn’t happen.” I slipped my hands into the pockets of my jeans, giving off a nonchalant vibe, my guns tucked away for convenience.

Most men in this business wore business suits or dress pants, not me. Fuck that. There were occasions where I would dress up, but I refused to wear that shit on a daily basis. Especially when I had been fucking summoned by someone who worked for me.

As beefy man stared at me, sizing me up, I let him take in his fill without saying a word. Finally, after long minutes and realizing I wasn’t relenting, he pulled out his cell, dialing.

“Boss,” he snapped into the phone. “Yeah, he’s here, said he comes in armed.” Beefy man’s eyes never left me or my men behind me.

Fuck it. I walked over and plopped my ass down in one of the chairs on the side of the open room. This was obviously going to take a while, and I was tired of standing.

Beefy man nodded to the phone. Idiot.

I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for what felt like forever while they had their pussy-whipped conversation. After hanging up, beefy man walked over to where I was sitting with my men standing beside me. I looked up and waited with a quirk of my brow.

“Boss says you can go in.”

I uncrossed my legs and stood up straight.

“But you go in alone.”

I stopped, pulled out my phone, and dialed Capella directly. I was fucking sick of this game.

He answered on the first ring.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I barked into the phone, gripping it tightly.

“If you want to be armed, I respect that, but the meeting will be just you and me. No guards, anywhere.” This wasn’t uncommon; it just seemed like a dog and pony show, and did he not remember who the fuck I was?

“You called the meet, not me. I’m here; my men are here. You have the terms, so we do this, or we don’t, but stop wasting my time.” My tone was even, my words coming off in the same way my body language showed—chilled yet commanding. Like always, I was in control, the powerhouse.

His deep breathing on the other end of the phone only added to my agitation, but I would never let him see a rise out of me. Fuck him. I was in charge of me and everything around me.

“Agreed. Come on back.”

I clicked the phone off, pushing it back in my pocket, only to hear the quiet chirping of a phone next to me. Beefy guy picked his cell up, and it took everything I had not to laugh at the dumb fucker. Who the hell had a fucking bird chirping as their ring tone? Nothing screamed badass more. Moron.

“Follow me.” He led us down a long hallway and into a conference room.

I nodded to my men who stood guard outside the door, weapons close. The room was sparse; the only furniture was a large, round table in the center with chairs around it, and off to the side was a small bar with bottles of liquor.

From an interior door in the room, Capella strutted in with a cocky smirk on his face. Dumb fuck. He was the one who needed me, not the other way around. There were always others to take his place. The Capella family was small potatoes, one of many, in Lambardoni’s eyes. Regardless, Vino and Remeo had an agreement allowing him to move product. It had stuck over the years.

Wearing a slick navy suit with pinstripes down it and a crisp white shirt underneath, he was trying way too hard to be powerful when he wasn’t. I take that back; he was powerful in his family, but not in the Lambardoni family.

He strode over to me, holding out his hand in invitation, and I reciprocated, clutching his hand firmly.

“Jag, glad you could come. Sorry about all the security. You know how it is.” His words played on my nerves, and from the slight twitch in his jaw, he knew it.

I released him, stepping back. “I know that if your fucking men put a goddamned hand on me, they won’t make it long,” I barked, crossing my arms over my chest and widening my stance, not bothering to sit down in the chairs.

I knew Capella, had worked with him since I started running things in California. I could have written a playbook on his emotions and mannerisms. He had to handle the elephant in the room first and get it off his chest, so I waited.

He chuckled, and I gritted my teeth. “I bet not. Let’s talk about Antonio, yeah?”

“Talk,” I said, allowing him to say whatever the fuck he needed to get it over with so we could move on.

“I hear he fucked some blonde in a bathroom and disrespected Ms. Catarina, yeah?”

I nodded my head, not bothering to answer since he already knew it.

“Stupid kid. I swear these assholes need to learn to keep their dicks in their pants.” He shook his head, walking over to the bar. “You want?” He held up a bottle of clear liquid.