Page 24 of By Blade, I Love
Exactly like I thought he would. I understood men like him because I was one of them. Respect would get you a lot further than begging and groveling. “You said you’re out of tea. Do you have anything stronger?”
His grin widened, and he looked over his shoulder. “Got anything good back there for me and my guest?”
Men in the back returned to the warehouse to search for something for us to drink.
It was the strangest sight, the two of us in old, rickety lawn chairs on a farm, the dirt moist from the blood and the sea air.
He sat back in his chair and looked at me again, a massive man who was even bigger than me. I preferred to be ripped, so I protected my gains and burned off the fat, but he was all about size. He just wanted to be as big as possible, even if it slowed him down.
In this case, I didn’t need to be stronger than him—just faster.
The staredown lasted for at least three minutes before one of his men came over with a bottle of something. He brought a little wooden stool to use as a table and left it there with the bottle.
Icarus grabbed the bottle and examined the label. “You like gin, Wolfe?”
“I do, Icarus.”
He grinned and opened the bottle before he took a swig and handed it to me.
I grabbed it and took a big drink of my own, ignoring the fact that I’d just shared saliva with another man.
He took the bottle back and set it on the stool. “This is nice, huh? A beautiful day right here in Sicily.” He extended his arms on either side of him, took a deep breath, and filled his lungs. “That sea air…burns every time.”
“You know where it’s also beautiful? Back wherever the fuck you came from.”
He folded his arms and rested them in his lap as he chuckled. “Why the fuck is that pussy over there running Cosa Nostra when you’re the one who should be in charge?”
“I’m like you—I prefer to serve.”
“You mean hunt, kill, and bury,” he said with excitement in his gaze.
“That’s one way to put it.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard my boss wants to be the sole operator of the powder business.”
I nodded.
“And he’s gonna get it.”
“I think there’s plenty of business to go around.”
“You don’t know my boss, Wolfe,” he said as he drummed on the armrests.
“I’m sure he’s like every other crime boss out there—nothing special. You and I are the special ones.”
He grinned like a schoolboy. “I’ve always wanted to be special.”
The guy was definitely unhinged. So twisted, he made me look boring. “Sicily has always been its own sovereignty. Even if your crusade is successful, it’ll be expensive and time-consuming to maintain. You can expand into easier and more profitable markets elsewhere.”
“Maybe so, Wolfe. But all the thinking and planning isn’t really mythang.”
“Then what do you want from me, Icarus?”
He smiled again, from ear to ear, stretching his mouth so wide it looked unnatural. “I’m glad you asked. Despite what you may believe about my employer, the Skull King has great respect for tradition. He understands Cosa Nostra has maintained its power in Palermo for generations, a very beautiful and moving tale. And he would like for you to continue your regime…but under his discretion.”
“Meaning?”
“You take eighty percent of the profits of the other gangs and give it to him. And the Skull King takes seventy percent of yourbusiness. He’s giving you a discounted rate because he’s a swell guy like that.”
