Victoria

The Following Sunday Evening

Feeling like we’ve been caught up in a whirlwind for the past two weeks, I step into the black Escalade and collapse onto the back seat. My head is buzzing and I honestly can’t believe that everything worked out just the way I had hoped it would. Devon slides in next to me, his musky scent temporarily taking me away from my thoughts. I reach into my purse and pull out a little surprise for him. “I have that new phone for you,” I tell him with a smile. He shakes his head, giving me a knowing look. He knows how much it has been bothering me this past week.

“And all of my contacts are on here?” he asks suspiciously.

“I rebuilt them all from scratch, and your phone number is the same except the last digit is zero instead of nine,” I tell him, knowing that was the other sticking point.

“That’ll be easy, then,” he says, reaching to turn it on.

“We’re going to leave this one behind as a decoy,” I tell him, taking the old one from his hand and slipping it under the rear seat of the SUV. “Somehow, Eduardo found out that you were back home this week for the kid’s burial, and I hadn’t mentioned that fact to anyone, even Dad.”

“Your paranoia will probably be what keeps us alive,” he says, leaning over and giving me a kiss. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to Smith and Wollensky for a fantastic dinner, and then we’ll catch a nine o’clock flight to Devon City for our first order of business.” I sigh at the thought of telling him the news.

“Now what?” he asks, having just gotten his new SUV and starting the security work at the club.

“Now that I have access to everything, I saw how Eduardo was making inroads with the Irish Mob. He was going after Mickey Byrnes’s daughter,” I explain, but the name doesn’t ring a bell with Devon. “Mickey is the boss of Philly.”

“Okay. So what’s the issue?” he asks, not making any connections.

“The kid that was shot in your club the night before we went to Colombia was this girl’s boyfriend,” I further explain. “The kid was also the Irishman’s nephew,” I add, completing the circle.

“So Eduardo killed this guy? Or had him killed?” he asks, seeming astonished by how it’s all interrelated.

“That’s the interesting part. It seems the actual shooter was a police sniper.” I pause momentarily, letting it sink in. “He’s one of Chief Evans’s men.”

“Chief Evans was in the front row that night. You remember the fuss he was making before we even got started?” he recalls, narrowing his eyes. “That fucker has been playing me too?”

“That’s not even the biggest problem,” I admit, shaking my head. “According to Dad, the Irish mob feels like they’ve been fucked over by you, the police chief, and Eduardo. They know they don’t stand a chance in hell coming to Manhattan and going after Eduardo, but they have more than enough power to completely crush Devon City.”

“And when is this going to happen?” The expression on his face turns deadly serious.

“I don’t know that. All I know is that Eduardo spilled the beans to the girl last night, so it’s just a matter of time before there is retaliation,” I explain, wanting to get ahead of it.

“All right, I have to let the boys know,” he says, clicking to the contacts on his phone. “I’m going to tell the Sandman to reach out to all the gang leaders too. They can keep tabs on everything going down on the street.”

“That’s all you can do for now,” I assure him. “Then we’re going to go celebrate my victory by having a good dinner followed by a private flight to Devon City.” I like to stroke his ego by always referring to it by that name. I lean into him and give him a long, hot kiss as we pull up in front of the steakhouse. “In addition to the unwelcome news, I have some really good news for you too. But I’m saving that for later.”

Devon

I appreciate the fact that Victoria warned me about the potential for conflict with the Irish, but I wish she would’ve waited until after dinner. This seafood platter is amazing, but I find myself completely distracted by the thought of taking on a force of that magnitude. Hopefully, Tiny and Felix have some luck drawing in extra support.

“Enjoy your dinner,” Victoria says with a smile. “We have a long future ahead of us and we’ll be able to handle whatever comes our way.”

“Do you have access to resources down there?” I ask, wanting some clarity.

“I have access to resources everywhere, honey,” she says, popping a piece of lobster into her mouth and smiling broadly while chewing it. “I was going to wait until later to share this with you, but I might as well tell you now.”

“Tell me what?” I’m hoping it will be something that puts my mind at ease.

“Dad thinks that what he’s done is temporary, but he has apparently forgotten just how bulletproof he made the Syndicate Doctrine,” she whispers across the table, looking around to ensure that no one can hear. “He was always scared that someone would try to overthrow him, so he made it virtually impossible.”

“So now that you’re in that position . . .” I pause, knowing exactly where this is going.

“Since the doctrine was signed and my position announced at the annual conference as well as ratified by the full council, I now have the same standing as he had,” she continues with a sparkle in her eyes. “The only one who can remove me . . . is me.”

“What about his partner? That Carlos guy?” I ask, thinking that it was strange that no one has mentioned any change in his status.

“Dad always said that Carlos Martinez was the co-founder, but he always ran the food service business and has no official position within The Syndicate power structure.”

“Wow, so you are really the new Capo dei Capi,” I reply in astonishment.

“He obviously doesn’t realize it, but I’ve read over that doctrine several times and I was always amazed that the other members agreed to it.” She shakes her head with a look of astonishment. “I was holding my breath all weekend, thinking that at least one council member would bring it up at some point. It’s like none of them have actually read the thing.”

“Well, they’re all guys. We have a tendency not to read the fine print,” I tell her, knowing my own lack of interest in long, detailed documents.

“That’s crazy.” She beams. “I fucking own these guys, and there isn’t a damn thing they can do about it. So don’t fuss about a little skirmish with the Irish. Let’s get you a nice, big steak and a bottle of Cabernet. We’ll worry about the rest of it tomorrow.”

Between the seafood, wine, and steak, this is easily one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten. Everything melts in your mouth, and Louis Martini is an excellent way to cleanse the palate between bites. It suddenly hits me that this woman has truly taken over for her father, making her the undisputed leader of the underworld. A few weeks ago, when I thought about The Syndicate, I thought about a group of powerful men whom no one ever heard about, but who ran the world in silence. Now, I’m sitting here having dinner with their newly appointed leader, Victoria Riccolo. I unconsciously shake my head at the thought.

“Is something still bothering you?” she asks curiously, setting her fork down next to her plate and wiping her mouth with her napkin. “Is there something on my face?”

“No, there’s nothing on your face. I just can’t believe that you did it.” I continue to shake my head, thinking back to how everything fell into place so quickly. “You made it look easy.”

“It may have looked easy because I spent nearly fourteen years preparing for it,” she replies with a distant look in her eyes. “Over the years, I’ve spent enough time with both Grandpa and Dad to get to know each of their strengths and weaknesses. Believe it or not, they both have very distinct weaknesses. I simply helped bring them to the surface in both men.”

“So this was your plan all along?” I ask, a little astonished by her admission. “I thought you said you needed me to help win your dad over.”

“I needed you by my side to convince my father that I was capable of having a relationship with a strong man,” she says in a very matter-of-fact way. “Don’t get me wrong. I do want you around. I think you’re an amazing guy,” she adds with the warmth of Cruella de Vil.

“I see. Well, I have to tell you that you are the first woman I’ve met who is dysfunctional enough to really understand me.” I reach across the table and take her by the hand. “After seeing the dynamics that you grew up with, I’m quite sure I’ve found my soulmate.”

“I knew it the moment I saw your picture and read through your file,” she says, still not sounding the slightest bit romantic. “That’s why I showed up in Devon City to begin with. I had a feeling that you were the man for me.”

“Well, then it’s settled.” I chuckle and take another gulp of wine. “Together, we’ll rule the world.” I look over at her, still having difficulty comprehending the power that she has at her disposal.

“That was also part of my plan. You know that.” She picks up her wine glass and proposes a toast. “To being unstoppable,” she says, clinking her glass against mine.

“We are unstoppable,” I agree, taking another sip. “So, why did you bring me to this place?”

“Because I thought you would like it,” she says, setting her glass down. But I can tell by the reminiscent look on her face that there’s more to the story. “The last time I had dinner with both Mom and Dad was right here.” Her lips begin to quiver. “So, I thought it would be the right place to celebrate our victory.”

“It’s perfect.” I get out of my chair and lean over to give her a hug. “Congratulations on becoming the most powerful woman in the history of the underworld,” I add, knowing that will cheer her up.

“Next, I’m shooting for the most powerful woman in the world,” she replies, wiping tears from her eyes. “But I’m going to have to get this crying thing under control. It’s so weak.”

“I think this whole thing has been a cathartic experience for you. Fourteen years of frustration and anger, all coming to a head.” I slide my chair right next to hers and sit back down. “I’ve never met a stronger woman than you, regardless of a few tears.”

“You always know how to make me hot,” she says, looking down and running her fingertips along the inside of my thigh. “Are you up for a private flight?”

“I am, but unfortunately, it’s only fifty minutes instead of the eight-hour cargo flight we had last weekend,” I tease, thinking about how sore we both were the next day. “Now that’s a flight I’ll never forget.”

“Me too, but I think next time, we’ll be much more comfortable in the private jet.” She takes her last bite of steak and smiles, her cheeks flushing just a bit.

“Your cheeks are telling me that you would do it again.” I wiggle my eyebrows and grin, finishing the last of my wine.

“Oh, we’ll be doing it again. Just not in the back of a cargo plane, that’s all I’m saying,” she clarifies, laying down her napkin and pushing back from the table. “Are you ready to go for level-two status in the mile-high club?”

“Just let me know the requirements and I’ll shoot for level two,” I reply with a wink. My hand slides along the curve of her back as we make our way to the door, and it reminds me of the tiger that lies in wait. How could a guy like me get so damn lucky? Not only did I land one of the hottest women I’ve ever seen, but then she almost simultaneously becomes the head of The Syndicate. Once I catch my stride, no one will stand a chance against us. I look up as we exit the restaurant. Papa Joe has to be my guardian angel. There is no other explanation for how well things are playing out. Thanks man!