Devon

After surveying the damage with Victoria, my fortress seems to be more like a cardboard box nestled upon quicksand. Up to this point, I’ve relied upon fear and submission to keep things in order, but it looks like I’ll be trading my exposed brick interior for layers of bullet-resistant polycarbonate. Whoever attacked us either has no fear of me or has a death wish. I reach out to The Sandman, telling him to get word out to everyone about the meeting. By two thirty, I’ll have every cop and gangbanger in the city hunting down the fucker who killed my boy James.

“Are you all right?” Victoria asks after I unsuccessfully try to slam the door shut on the Escalade. “Don’t worry, we’ll get this place in shape and we’ll get a solid vehicle that’s impenetrable.”

“I’m not worried. I was just contemplating what I want to do to this guy when I find him,” I reply with the feeling of venom running through my veins. “Nobody fucks with me. If they do, they pay the ultimate price.”

“You’ve dealt with this type of thing before?” she asks, furrowing her brow.

“Not exactly, but my grandfather and uncle have many times, so I can handle it,” I reply, flexing my bicep. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to flex my muscles.” I shoot her a grin, knowing that this is merely the first test of my authority. I need to recruit a few more guys for my core group so I’m not quite so reliant on Tiny and Felix.

“Come on, my Italian bull. You need a good breakfast.” Victoria grabs me by the arm and pulls me back toward the alleyway. “I know a guy who can have a couple of windows in place in time for your meeting. You can also talk to him about the level-ten protection. Those will take a few days to get though.”

“After you see how today unfolds, it will put your mind at ease,” I assure her. “My grandfather was legendary in Detroit, and he ruled the roost with an iron fist. By following his example and combining it with my community building initiatives, I’ve been unstoppable. Just watch and see.” Even though I’m shaken, I refuse to give up on my foundational ideas. There is too much at stake to give up and hide out of fear.

“I’m looking forward to it.” She leans in and gives me a kiss. This woman is like a fusion of Pretty Woman, Basic Instinct, and The Godfather. How many women have in-depth knowledge of the cocaine trade and ballistic materials but can still rock a little black dress and high heels? As she struts to the car, she looks as if she would be at home on the red carpet—and that’s after having only five minutes to get ready. I can’t help shaking my head, knowing that when it comes to her, I just might be in over my head.

* * *

As the meeting comes to order, the scene unfolds as I expected. A sea of gang colors on the right and an equal number of blue uniforms on the left. The fact that these two can be in the same place at the same time says a lot about the progress I’ve made these past two years. When I arrived on the scene, they were all focused on killing each other.

“Thanks for getting the windows taken care of on short notice,” I tell the carpenter just before taking the stage. Neither gaping windows nor plywood was acceptable, as that shit shows nothing but weakness. Even though he simply cut some Plexiglas to fill the holes, it will do for now. “I’ll give you a call Monday about the security upgrades. For the glass, I think a level-three will be sufficient since that will take three rounds from a forty-four magnum.” I glance over at Victoria, who is shaking her head and giving me a look of disapproval. “I’d rather spend eight grand than twenty,” I add for her benefit.

Everyone quiets down as I stroll to the front and take the stage. “I’m not sure if everyone has heard, but my Escalade was hit by a car bomb last night. Our boy James is dead, and Tiny and Felix are in the hospital. Felix is still unconscious.” I clear my throat while a series of groans comes from the crowd. “We’ve got a good thing going here,” I remind them. “If anything happens to me, all of your lives will go back to how they used to be—that I guarantee. That would be a shame, since our best days are still ahead of us.”

“What can we do?” The Sandman yells back.

“You guys need to hit the streets and find out who saw something. Someone saw who did this, and I want him standing on this stage by nine o’clock tonight.” I turn my attention to the officers. “You guys have access to hundreds of surveillance cameras. Twenty-five grand says you can find the guy and bring him to justice.”

“By justice, you mean bring him to you?” the chief asks sarcastically.

“Yes. Unless you don’t need the money.” I glare at him, feeling an instant surge in my blood pressure. “You need to cut your guys in on this so everyone has equal incentive,” I add, scanning the dozens of officers. The chief is a smart guy. He’ll make sure they find the guy before the gangbangers do. In order to collect the reward, the fucker needs to be standing on this stage by nine o’clock tonight.

“So if we find him first, we get twenty-five grand?” Sandman yells once again, maintaining his status as the spokesman for the group.

“Of course. This is a contest between you guys and law enforcement, so get out there and see who can track this guy down first,” I challenge them. Despite the fact that they are able to coexist in the same room, I know that the animosity between the two groups is still as strong as the day I arrived on the scene. I intend to use that animosity to my advantage as fear and deep-seated anger are two of the best drivers of results. Lust and love are the other two. My attention briefly turns to Victoria, who is standing next to the bar with her arms crossed. She curls her lips just slightly, giving me a nod of approval. She’s right. There are things that I can learn from her, but when it comes to motivating people, she can learn a few things as well. “Okay, get the hell out of here and don’t return unless it’s to deliver the perpetrator.”

Victoria

I have to admit that I’m truly impressed by the way Devon handled the diverse crowd. A couple of dozen gangbangers mixing with fifty or more blue-shirts is something I’ve never seen. There is something unique about the structure he has set up here. He’s basically greasing the wheels with the locals the same way The Syndicate does with the feds. In the end, though, it will all come down to whether it’s an effective way to move product. My father and his associates have been able to compound sales growth north of ten percent for years, and that’s why they are all wealthy beyond reason. The last two years have seen flat sales, which is why they’ve been hunting for scapegoats. I’m thinking Devon is right, though. It’s meth, not him, that’s causing the problem.

“You definitely have a motivated bunch, but twenty-five grand? That’s a little excessive. Why didn’t you offer ten and use the rest to go with level-ten protection up front?” I ask, feeling irritated by the fact that he would skimp on security after what just happened.

“Every dollar I put into this community comes back to me many times over,” he replies with zero hesitation. “Sending twenty grand to an out-of-state manufacturer does nothing for business.”

“But it might keep you alive.” I glare back at him, not understanding why he’s so resistant to making upgrades that are completely obvious. “I want you to call Brad at INKAS,” I add, handing him a business card. “They have a black level-six armored Escalade in stock. You can be back to full speed by the middle of next week.”

“I’ll give him a call, but I like the idea of having Frosty doing another custom ride. Would a level-six handle that much C4?” he asks, still resisting change.

“That’s something to ask Brad,” I reply with a shrug. “Can Frosty have you up and running by Wednesday?” I add, knowing that starting from scratch would take him at least a month. “You can always have Frosty build you a second vehicle. That way, you have a backup and you can split up your crew so you don’t expose everyone to a single point of attack.”

“I’ll talk to both Brad and Frosty,” he concedes. “We’ll get a plan worked out.” His phone buzzes so he flips it over to take a look. “Felix is awake. He has a bad concussion but it looks like he’ll be all right. Tiny is being released this afternoon.”

“See? You’ll be back at full strength in no time.” I glance over at the door as the last of the officers exits the club. “Dad took a few hits before forming The Syndicate, especially down in Colombia. He and Grandpa were going head to head with Escobar the first five years. So believe me, there is no one who knows more about security than him.”

“So you’ve learned from the best, in other words.” He nods his head as if the light bulb has finally gone on.

“I’ve been telling you all week that I can make your life much easier. You just have to trust me. I grew up on the inside and I’ve seen things that you can only imagine at this point.” The bitterness of growing up in a loveless family once again begins to bubble up within me. “Can I share something with you?” I ask now that we’re the only ones in the club.

“Of course. What’s up?” He pulls out a bar stool and motions for me to take a seat.

“My father never loved my mother,” I begin, expressing something that I’ve kept buried for years. “He had a long-term affair with the wife of his most valued business partner. She bore him a son. Even though he goes by the name Eduardo Martinez, he’s the spitting image of my father. That’s why I need your help.”

“My help?” He seems surprised by my admission.

“I know I’m perfectly capable of running The Syndicate, but Dad is going to choose my half-brother over me,” I confide. “Either that or last night was a test to see what you and I are capable of handling.”

“Well, I’m up for a test if you are,” he replies, narrowing his eyes. “Something tells me that the two of us can handle anything that is thrown at us. Besides, if you’re in charge of The Syndicate, that will definitely be good for business.”

“If I’m in charge, you will be my Carlos Martinez,” I tell him, referring to the man who co-founded the organization with my father. “We just have to prove ourselves prior to the meeting next Friday.”

“The meeting?” he asks with the same puzzled look.

“The June meeting is always the big one. All the members will be flying in for several days of planning and contract re-negotiations,” I explain. “I’m betting that he is going to announce his successor on the final day. Once it’s announced and voted on, it will be as good as written in stone. So I’m working with a very short deadline here.”

“Another layer of the onion has been peeled back.” He throws me that cocky grin of his. “Now things make even more sense. You need me just as much as I need you.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” I return a smartass grin of my own. “If my half-brother wins, he doesn’t need you. Just like my father, he will view you as an obstruction between The Syndicate and their dealer network.”

“So . . . you’re the only game in town?” He sighs as if he’s agreeing to take his best friend to the prom. Even though he’s a full-fledged bad ass, there is no way he can go against The Syndicate. No one can.

“Yes. I’m sorry to tell you, but the only way your dreams are going to pan out is if mine do as well. It’s a long shot, but I want to be the Capo dei Capi. Then I want to kick my half-brother to the curb. He’s more of an arrogant fuck than my father ever was.”

“Okay. I’m going to need a little time to think about all of this.” He pushes his face into his hands and lets out a groan. “Everything just got a lot more complicated.”

I nod my head in sympathy. It’s never easy when your game plan is completely upended, but in this case, he is very fortunate. If it hadn’t been for our mutual need for each other’s help, he would’ve already been dead. Even though he’s still a bit reluctant, I’m convinced that once he has a chance to think things through, he will be fully onboard. My father and his partners are some of the richest men in the world, so why wouldn’t he want to be part of carrying on the tradition? He would have to be a fool to turn me down.