Page 140 of Cartel Devil

With no children of his own, and a pack of nephews running every which way, I know he enjoyed having two girls around. He would’ve made an excellent girl dad much like Salvatore—as much as a shitbag as he is with everything else.

Tía Elle answers on speakerphone.

“Hello.”

“Hello, Elodie. Please hold on while I get the others on the phone.”

It’s only a moment later that we hear Sylvia Mancinelli and Mairghread O’Rourke join the call. Tía Elle and Sylvia are similar in age while Mairghread and Laura are close. They’re the four ruling women of the four ruling families.

This will either be war, or this will be peace.

There will be no middle ground.

Laura speaks first since she initiated the call. “Elodie, this was not how I planned to wake up. Certainly not at this hour.”

“The truth is rarely convenient, Laura.”

And we’re off to the races.

“Perhaps we can move past the lack of pleasantries and get to what matters.” That’s Sylvia’s voice.

She’s one of the most elegant and sophisticated women I’ve ever seen. She’s today’s version of Sophia Loren meets Gina Lollobrigida meets Martha Stewart. She’ll stab you through the throat with her designer stiletto while smiling and serving you espresso and biscotti. She was also a renowned international attorney in her own right before marrying Salvatore. Much like Laura does for the bratva, Sylvia handles the Mafia’s legal side of the family’s legit businesses. She’s far smarter than foolish men in our world give her credit for.

“What matters is not only the information sent to us but how the hell it got onto our phones.”

Mairghread O’Rourke’s an investigative journalist. She’s not a hacker, but she can find anything she wants to know. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out the answer. I guarantee she has some sources who’re hackers and programmers. She only needs to ask them.

“You should probably ask Nicolina that. She’s the one with the degree in national security. I believe she concentrated in something along the lines of cybersecurity.” Tía Elle isn’t exactly dismissive, but neither is she warm.

“Why?” It’s a simple question from Laura.

“Because your men deserved it.” That got a simple answer from Tía Elle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Like Laura would’ve ever been satisfied with such a vague response.

“Sylvia can answer that as well as I can. I’m sure Salvatore’s given her a heads-up.” Tía Elle has no qualms naming names.

“Oh, no you don’t. Salva protected Tricia from the start.”

My tía lists their sins. “Because getting hit by a car, having her vehicle explode seconds after she got out, being chased and shot at, and being poisoned while pregnant shows what Salvatore’s protection is worth. And don’t say the Diaz men should’ve done a better job. That’s neither here nor there when the Mancinellis failed so spectacularly.”

“She’s pregnant?”

The three women’s shocked voices blend together with that one question, then the call goes silent. The kind of silent when the phone’s muted. I guarantee Laura and Sylvia are ripping their husbands a new one, and Mairghread’s waiting for what comes next.

Tre looks up at me as I perch on the arm of the sofa beside her. She looks uncertain as her attention shifts to the others before returning to me. I stand, and a flash of panic crosses her face. I ease her to her feet before taking her seat and guiding her to sit on my lap. It’s a domino effect. The other men slowly shift and sit where their wives were, holding them on their laps now. Even the older generation.

It means everyone gets somewhere comfortable to sit.

Sure. Like there aren’t already enough seats for everyone.

Tre leans into me as Laura’s terse voice comes through the phone.

“What do you want from this?”

“Are you asking just me? I think you should ask Mairghread and Sylvia that question first. They’re the injured parties as much as los Diaz.” Tía Elle couldn’t give a shit about the other two women’s opinions, but she won’t let the bratva off easily.

“Mairghread?” Laura sounds like she’s choking on nails.